4  FHESOUrH 

JF  FRANCE 


1^  ^  <§> 


ii$ma\ 


HE  POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR GAILLARD 
HE  RECRU  DESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 
■"vfADAME  JOLICOEUR'S  CAT 

%^.  ^"ONSOLATE  GIANTESS 


J 


-THR 


If    thou    b< 

;   borrowed    by    a    friend, 

Right    welcome    shall    he   be 

To    read, 

to  ^udy,   not  to  lend, 

But    to 

return    to    me; 

Not    that 

imparled    knowledge    doth 

Diminish 

learning's   store, 

But    books 

I    find,   if   often    lent, 

Return 

to  me   no   more. 

/i" 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/fromsouthoffrancOOjanvrich 


^ » • 


¥ 


iSee  page  30 


"thou    SHALT   HAVE    THEM    ALL,    ANGELE 


FROM  THE 
SOUTH  OF  FRj^t^Cii 


'3 


c  >•"■"  a 


THE    ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

THE  POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR   GAILLARD 

THE  RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

MADAME  JOLICOEUR'S  CAT 

A  CONSOLATE  GIANTESS 


BY 

THOMAS   A.  JANVIER 


ILLUSTRATED 


J^*^  M    f 


li-^^^ 


HARPER  6-  BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

M  C  M  X  I  1 


Books  by 
THOMAS  A.  JANVIER 

From    the    South    op    France.      Illustrated 

Post  8vo,  Cloth net  U. 20 

The  Passing  of  Thomas,  and  Other  Stories. 

Illustrated.     Post  8vo,  Cloth 1 .  25 

The  Uncle  of  an  Angel,  and  Other  Stories. 

Illustrated.     Post  8vo,  Cloth 1 .  25 

The  Aztec  Treasure-House.  A  Romance  of 
Contemporaneous  Antiquity.  Illustrated  by 
Frederic  Remington.     Post  Svp,  Cloth  .     .     .     1 .  50 

In  the  Sargasso  Sea      Post  8vo,  Cloth  .     .     .     1 .  25 

The  Christmas  Kalends  op  Provence.  Il- 
lustrated by  Louis  Loeb.     Octavo,  Cloth,  net     1.25 

liEGENDS  OF  THE  CiTY  OF  Mexico.     Illustrated 

by  Walter  Clark.     Post  8vo.  Cloth  .     .     net     1.30 

In    Great    Waters.     Illustrated    by    Lucius 

Hitchcock.     Post  8vo,  Cloth 1.25 

Santa  Fe's  Partner.     Illustrated  by  Stanley 

Arthurs.     Post  Svo,  Cloth 1 .  50 

In   Old    New   York.     Illustrated.     Post   Svo, 

Cloth 1.75 

The  Dutch  Founding  of  New  York.  Illus- 
trated.    Maps.     Octavo,  Half  Leather    .     net     2.50 

Henry  Hudson.  A  Brief  Statement  of  His 
Aims  and  His  Achievements.  Illustrated. 
Maps.     16mo,  Cloth net       .75 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK 


COPYRIGHT,    1912.    BY    HARPER   &    BROTHERS 

PRINTED   IN    THE    UNITED    STATES    OF   AMERICA 

PUBLISHED    MAY.     1912 


TO 

C.  A.  J 


953005 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  Roses  of  Monsieur  Alphonse  .......  i 

The  Poodle  of  Monsieur  Gaillard 57 

The  Recrudescence  of  Madame  Vic 99 

Madame  Jolicgeur's  Cat 137 

A  Consolate  Giantess 183 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

*'TH0U   SHALT   HAVE   THEM   ALL,  ANGELE "     .      .      .      Frontispiece 

HE   COULD    NOT   EVEN   BE   CERTAIN   THAT   SHE    WAS 

LISTENING  TO  HIM Facing  p.    50 

HIS  ENTRY   WAS   MADE   ON  HIS  HIND  LEGS      ...        **  70 

IT  WAS  THE  COMMANDING  ATTITUDE  OF  AN  IN- 
CENSED   PYTHONESS '*  96 

MADAME  VIC  DISPOSED  HERSELF  IN  AN  ATTITUDE  OF 

ATTENTION **         IO4 

THEN,  AT  LAST,  MONSIEUR  POLVEREL  SAW  DAY- 
LIGHT       **         134 

"we  have  our  good  UNDERSTANDINGS,  THE  SHAH 

DE   PERSE   AND  l" **         I56 

"HIS    SCALP    WAS    PEELED    AWAY    IN    STRIPS    AND 

strings" '*      180 


THE  ROSES  OF  MONSIEUR  ALPHONSE 


i:j 


THE  ROSES  OF  MONSIEUR  ALPHONSE 


MONSIEUR  then  Is  prepared  to  deny 
everything,  all  entire?'' 

Monsieur  was  not  prepared  to  deny  every- 
thing, either  all  entire  or  sectionally.  He  was 
in  narrow  shoes.  Therefore  he  temporized.  For 
some  seconds  he  stirred  his  coffee  with  a  diligence 
— precisely  as  though  Marie's  words,  actually 
spoken  in  a  voice  high-pitched  and  penetrating, 
had  been  inaudible.  Then  he  looked  up  at  her — 
precisely  as  though  she  had  entered  the  room  at 
that  very  moment — and  said  suavely:  ** Another 
glass  of  creme  de  menthe,  if  you  please,  Marie — 
and  I  beg  that  this  time  the  morsels  of  ice  may 
not  be  of  the  magnitude  of  hills.'' 

Marie  neither  stirred  nor  answered. 

*'Let  the  ice,  I  say,"  Monsieur  Alphonse  con- 
tinued, still  playing  for  time,  and  also  for  diver- 
sion, ''be  not  fragments  of  the  dimensions  of 
icebergs.  Age  is  setting  its  harsh  grasp  upon 
thee,  Marie.     Thou  art  becoming  careless.     It  is 

3 


't'R.Olij.i'HE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

not  alone  my  creme  de  menthe  that  is  atrocious 
this  evening.  The  soufflet  also  was  a  scandal.  It 
had  the  heaviness  of  a  bad  dream!" 

This  unfair  thrust  almost  was  a  touch.  Marie's 
lips  trembled  and  partly  opened.  Had  they 
fully  opened — in  violent  refutation  of  the  calum- 
ny put  upon  her  soufflet,  which  had  been  figura- 
tively as  well  as  literally  an  inspiration — all  would 
have  been  lost.  By  a  series  of  masterly  manoeu- 
vers  she  had  driven  Monsieur  Alphonse  from 
one  ill-defended  position  to  another  until  she  had 
him  fairly  in  the  open.  Her  demand  for  a 
general  denial  was  much  the  same  as  a  home- 
driven  charge  of  cavalry  upon  a  badly  formed 
square.  A  diversion  would  have  been  fatal  to 
the  success  of  her  attack.  She  realized  this  fact 
— and  by  an  effort  of  will  little  short  of  heroic 
closed  her  lips  firmly  upon  her  unspoken  words. 
When  her  lips  did  open,  it  was  to  repeat  her 
charge  upon  the  enemy's  wavering  square. 

**  Monsieur  then  is  prepared,  I  say,  to  deny 
everything:  to  deny  that  none  of  these  so-called 
accidents — every  one  of  which,  he  will  observe, 
has  caused  Madame  Bellarmine  to  trespass  upon 
our  premises — has  been  the  result  of  anything 
but  chance?'' 

*'I  asked  thee  for  another  glass  of  creme  de 
menthe,  Marie." 

4 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

*'He  would  have  me  believe,  for  example,  that 
the  falling  of  the  wall  was  an  accident?'' 

''Walls  are  not  eternal.  It  was  a  very  old 
wall." 

''Arid  the  pruning  of  the  overhanging  tree?" 

"Common  courtesy  required  that  permission 
should  be  obtained  in  that  matter." 

"And  the  pursuit  of  the  cat — ^which  has  oc- 
curred no  less  than  three  times?" 

"Cats  are  animals  of  a  vagrant  nature.  Only 
strong  chains  would  restrain  Madame  Bellar- 
mine's  cat  from  coming  upon  my  land." 

"That  I  admit  freely!  I  would  admit  as 
much  of  Madame  Bellarmine  herself." 

"Have  a  care,  Marie!" 

"And  to  omit  the  remainder  of  these  scandals 
and  to  come  to  the  immediate  present.  Monsieur 
is  prepared  to  deny  that  this  very  evening 
Madame  Bellarmine  had  the  effrontery  to  beg 
from  him  our  choicest  roses,  and  that  he  pressed 
them — thousands  of  them ! — eagerly  into  her  out- 
stretched hands?" 

Monsieur  Alphonse's  attempt  at  a  diversion 
having  been  unsuccessful,  the  situation  remained 
unchanged.  He  was  not  prepared,  I  repeat,  to 
deny  everything;  he  even  was  prepared — if 
Marie  fairly  made  a  rat  in  a  comer  of  him — to 
brazen  the  whole  thing  through.     On  the  other 

S 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

hand,  if  a  little  judicious  denying  would  relax 
the  tension  of  a  disagreeably  tense  situation,  he 
was  willing,  within  reason,  to  do  his  possible  to 
ease  the  strain.  Therefore  he  said,  speaking 
with  a  guarded  accuracy:  'T  deny  that  Madame 
Bellarmine  begged  me  for  my  roses.  I  deny 
that  I  pressed  thousands  of  them  eagerly  into 
her  outstretched  hands.'* 

''Monsieur  does  not  deny,  I  observe,*'  Marie 
answered  coldly,  ''that  Madame  Bellarmine  car- 
ried away  with  her  in  her  inverted  parasol — as 
I  saw  with  my  own  eyes — enough  of  our  roses 
to  ransom  a  dozen  queens.  Perhaps  Monsieur 
will  explain,"  she  added,  still  more  coldly,  "by 
what  fresh  'accident'  those  roses  came  to  be  in 
Madame  Bellarmine's  parasol?" 

Monsieur  Alphonse  raised  his  empty  glass  and 
regarded  it  with  an  air  of  exaggerated  longing. 
As  Marie  remained  impassive,  he  set  it  down 
again  with  an  exaggerated  sigh.  Then  he  said, 
plaintively:  "Marie,  in  one  more  moment — at 
the  most,  in  two  more  moments — I  shall  perish 
in  torments,  here  before  thy  eyes,  of  thirst  and 
indigestion!    Hast  thou  no  bowels?" 

Brushing  aside  with  a  gesture  of  disdain  Mon- 
sieur Alphonse's  avowed  intention  to  perish  be- 
fore her  eyes  in  dual  torments,  and  absolutely 
ignoring  his  irrelevant  digression  into  her  per- 

6 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

sonal  anatomy,  Marie  observed  with  a  frost- 
nipped  politeness:  *'I  beg  Monsieur's  pardon. 
Monsieur  was  about  to  explain?'* 

Monsieur  Alphonse  leaned  back  in  his  chair 
and  sighed  again — this  time  with  an  air  of  ex- 
aggerated fatigue.  ''Thou  art  wearying,  Marie 
— ^as  wearying  as  a  breadless  day !  The  explana- 
tion that  thou  demandest  with  such  unseemly  in- 
sistence is  of  a  childish  simplicity.  I  make  it 
to  thee  only  for  the  sake  of  peace.  Listen,  then. 
What  happened  was  this — precisely  this:  I  was 
cutting  roses  from  the  jacqueminot  in  the  comer 
— the  tree  that  overhangs  the  outer  wall.  I  was 
cutting  those  roses  which  grew  upon  the  highest 
branches.  To  reach  them  I  was  compelled  to 
stand  upon  the  step-ladder's  very  top.  My  posi- 
tion was  one  of  extreme  peril.  At  any  moment 
I  was  liable  to  fall.  Had  I  fallen  from  that 
giddy  height  I  assuredly  should  have  dashed  out 
my  brains.  Think  of  it,  Marie!  Thou  wouldst 
have  gone  into  the  garden  in  search  of  thy  old 
master,  and  thou  wouldst  have  found  his  cold — " 

*'But  Monsieur  did  not  fall,"  Marie  interrupted. 

''God  be  thanked,  no!  But,  being  in  such 
imminent  danger,  it  is  not  surprising  that  my 
hands  trembled;  that  two,  that  three,  that  per- 
haps even  half  a  dozen  roses  slipped  from  the 
shears  and  fell  outward  upon  the  road." 

7 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

''Ah!  And  Madame  Bellarmine  at  that  mo- 
ment falling  also  precisely  upon  the  road — '' 

"Peace,  Marie!  The  roses  fell,  I  repeat,  into 
the  common  highway.  It  was  not  my  intention, 
of  course,  to  suffer  them  to  remain  there.  It 
was  niy  intention '* — to  do  Monsieur  Alphonse 
justice,  it  is  only  fair  to  state  that  he  here  hesi- 
tated a  little — *4t  was  my  intention,  I  say, 
when  I  had  finished  cutting  my  roses,  and  had 
descended  in  safety  from  that  perilous  height, 
to  go  out  by  the  gate  (which,  as  thou  knowest, 
is  quite  at  the  other  end  of  the  garden)  and  re- 
claim them.  Circumstances  arose,  however, 
which  made  that  course  impossible  for  me. 
While  I  still  continued  to  cut  roses,  while  the 
roses  which  had  escaped  from  me  still  lay  where 
they  had  fallen,  Madame  Bellarmine  chanced 
to  come  up  the  roadway — approaching  from  the 
town.'' 

^''Chanced  to  come  up  the  roadway!"'  Marie 
echoed  in  a  tone  witheringly  scornful ;  and  added : 
*'Now  I  have  the  whole  matter.  Now  I  under- 
stand why  Monsieur  spent  the  whole  of  the  hot 
afternoon  in  the  'Robinson.'  It  was  admirable, 
the  'Robinson,'  for  his  purposes.  From  there 
in  the  tree-top  one  sees  perfectly  the  road  lead- 
ing up  the  hillside  from  Nimes."  Marie  paused 
for  a  moment,  and  then  continued  still  more 

8 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

scornfully:  *'But  I  interrupt  Monsieur's  narra- 
tive. Monsieur  was  cutting  roses  with  such 
skill  that  hundreds  of  them  fell  into  the  road- 
way. While  he  was  so  engaged,  Madame  Bel- 
larmine  *  chanced' — positively,  it  was  a  miracle! 
— also  to  fall  into  the  roadway,  no  doubt  drop- 
ping from  the  clouds!  Will  Monsieur  do  me 
the  favor  to  continue  his  interesting  tale?'' 

''It  is  because  of  thy  age  and  thy  infirmities, 
Marie,  that  I  suffer  thee  to  wag  thy  tongue  thus 
loosely.  There  is  nothing  more  to  tell  thee. 
Most  naturally,  finding  some  roses  lying  in  the 
dust  of  the  public  highway,  Madame  Bellar- 
mine  took  possession  of  them — as  thou,  in  like 
circumstances,  wouldst  have  done  thyself,  Marie. 
She  picked  them  up,  I  say,  and  went  onward 
with  them  to  her  home.  There,  that  is  the  whole 
of  this  matter  about  which  thou  hast  raised  such 
a  tempest.     That,  I  say,  is  the  whole. 

*'And  now,  thy  perverse  curiosity  being  satis- 
fied, perhaps  thou  wilt  have  the  goodness  to 
bring  me  the  creme  de  menthe  that  I  pine  for. 
As  to  the  ice,  I  repeat  my  injunction:  Let  the 
morsels  be  something  less  in  magnitude  than  the 
whole  round  world!" 

** Monsieur  shall  be  served  in  a  moment," 
Marie  replied  with  a  frigidity  that  quite  put  the 
ice  out  of  countenance — and  left  the  room  with 

9 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

the  haughtily  erect  bearing  of  a  conscript  in  his 
second  year. 


II 


Actually,  the  exhibition  of  fact  on  the  part  of 
Monsieur  Alphonse,  to  put  the  matter  delicately, 
had  been  inadequate.  His  statement,  with  cer- 
tain exceptions,  had  been  a  truthful  statement; 
but  his  qualifying  reservations  distinctly  had 
impaired  its  truthfulness  as  a  whole.  Yet  his 
eliminative  un veracity,  if  I  so  may  term  it,  must 
not  be  taken  too  seriously  nor  regarded  too 
harshly,  as  though  destitute  of  all  excuse.  Much 
may  be  forgiven  a  young  lover  who  gives  the 
coasts  of  truth  an  offing  in  order  to  guard  the 
treasured  secret  of  his  love.  Very  reasonably, 
therefore,  much  more  may  be  forgiven — even  so 
far  a  run  to  seaward  as  to  drop  the  coasts  of 
truth  quite  below  the  horizon — ^in  the  case  of  a 
lover  who  is  rising  forty,  who  is  a  recluse,  and 
who  is  a  professional  philosopher  of  the  Posi- 
tivist  School:  which,  precisely,  was  the  case  of 
Monsieur  Alphonse.  What  really  had  happened 
was  this: 

In  the  early  afternoon,  having  finished  his  ex- 
cellent breakfast.  Monsieur  Alphonse  had  as- 
cended to  the  '* Robinson''  with  his  cigarette- 

10 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

case  in  one  pocket  of  his  flannel  jacket  and  in 
the  other  pocket  a  volume  of  Comte.  Absolutely, 
his  only  intention  was  to  study  an  obscure  pass- 
age in  the  writings  of  that  philosopher  and  to 
smoke.  The  ' '  Robinson  * '  being  circular,  he  might 
have  seated  himself  with  his  back  to  any  one  of 
the  thirty-two  points  of  the  compass.  Chance — 
directed  by  the  fall  of  the  sunlight  through  the 
branches — led  him  to  seat  himself  with  his  back 
to  the  southeast.  Of  necessity,  therefore,  he 
faced  toward  the  northwest — that  is  to  say, 
toward  the  Villa  Prentegarde.  Even  Marie, 
had  these  facts  been  presented  to  her  considera- 
tion, must  have  admitted  that  nothing  more  than 
accident  thus  had  placed  him  in  a  position  which 
in  a  manner  compelled  him  to  overlook  Madame 
Bellarmine's  abode. 

Assuredly,  then,  it  was  no  fault  of  Monsieur 
Alphonse's  that  he  could  not  glance  over  the  top 
of  his  book — ^while  he  wrestled  mentally  with  the 
great  Positivist's  entangled  concepts — without 
looking  straight  at  the  piquant  villa,  not  three 
hundred  yards  distant,  in  which  dwelt  the  most 
bewilderingly  delightful  widow  in  the  whole  of 
Languedoc.  On  the  other  hand,  a  student  of 
Comte  (remembering  Madame  de  Vaux)  might 
have  had  enough  mere  common  sense  to  know 
that  philosophy  would  be  shattered  into  a  thou- 

2  II 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

sand  fragments  when — as  presently  happened — 
that  ecstatic  widow,  arrayed  in  a  ravishing  walk- 
ing-costume, came  out  from  her  own  doorway 
and  stood  upon  her  own  terrace  while  she  drew 
on  her  gloves. 

At  that  crisic  moment  it  was  that  Monsieur 
Alphonse  entered  upon  the  broad  path  leading 
to  perdition.  Instead  of  removing  Madame 
Bellarmine  from  his  field  of  vision  (by  shifting 
his  seat  to  any  one  of  the  sixteen  points  of  the 
compass  available  for  that  purpose)  and  address- 
ing himself  to  Comte  with  resolution,  he  removed 
Comte  from  his  field  of  vision  (by  laying  that 
eminent  philosopher  face  downward  on  the  seat 
beside  him)  and  with  a  resolution  that  in  reality 
was  a  perverted  form  of  weakness  addressed 
himself  wholly  to  Madame  Bellarmine.  Really, 
though,  something  may  be  said  in  excuse  for 
him.  Between  the  hair-splitting  of  such  an 
overpositive  Positivist  and  the  heart  -  splitting 
of  such  a  widow — a  dream  of  a  widow,  all  in 
pearl-grey  silk  of  a  softness,  wearing  a  wide- 
brimmed  straw  hat  turned  up  with  a  pearl-grey 
feather.  .  .  .  Ah  well,  no  philosopher,  least  of 
all  a  French  philosopher,  forced  to  make  choice 
between  such  conflicting  concepts,  could  be  ex- 
pected to  forget  that  first  of  all  he  was  a 
man! 

12 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

Having  drawn  on  her  gloves,  Madame  Bellar- 
mine  opened  and  raised  a  pearl-grey  lace-trimmed 
parasol.  Held  upon  her  shoulder,  inclined  back- 
ward, it  gave  the  finishing  touch  to  her  costume : 
much  as  an  aureole  gives  the  finishing  touch  to 
the  lighter  costume  of  a  very  chic  saint.  Prob- 
ably Madame  Bellarmine  would  have  resented 
one  -  half  of  that  simile.  Assuredly,  had  she 
been  compelled  to  choose  between  being  a  saint 
and  being  chic,  she  would  have  chosen  to  be — 
not  a  saint.  And  that  again  is  natural:  seeing 
that  Madame  Bellarmine  was  all  of  seven-and- 
thirty,  and  of  an  experience  and  soul  and  body 
of  the  Midi.  They  are  gay,  down  there.  They 
take  life  cheerfully.  It  is  in  the  bleak  North — 
where  chill  mists  are,  and  the  sun  is  forgotten — 
that  you  will  find  the  sad  folk  who  look  upon  life 
as  a  discipline  and  who  sit  about  moping  over 
their  souls. 

The  cigarette  that  Monsieur  Alphonse  was 
smoking  went  out  unnoticed — as  unnoticed  as 
had  been  the  extinguishment  of  his  philosophy. 
Hidden  among  the  branches,  yet  seeing  clearly 
through  the  leafy  rifts,  he  watched  Madame 
Bellarmine  with  a  longing  watchfulness  that  set 
his  heart  to  beating  faster  and  that  made  his 
breathing  irregular  and  short.  For  a  few  mo- 
ments he  lost  sight  of  her,  as  she  disappeared 

13 


FROM   THE   SOUTH   OF   FRANCE 

around  the  corner  of  the  house  on  her  way  to  the 
gate.  Then  he  saw  her  again,  as  she  reappeared 
in  the  narrow  lane — which  led  down  the  hill- 
side, between  high  stone  walls,  past  his  own 
garden  and  onward  and  downward  until  it  came- 
to  the  bridge  across  the  Torrent,  and  so  to  the 
streets  of  Nimes. 

Evidently,  she  was  on  her  way  to  the  city.  It 
was  a  long  walk  and  a  hot  walk  to  be  taking  at 
that  hour  of  a  summer  day;  and  the  hotter  be- 
cause the  high  stone  walls  shut  off  what  little  air 
was  stirring  and  made  the  lane  not  unlike 
the  fiery  furnace  frequented  by  Shadrach  and 
Meshach  and  Abednego.  Monsieur  Alphonse 
was  lost  in  wonder  that  Madame  Bellarmine 
should  set  herself  in  rivalry  with  those  Scriptural 
salamanders — until  he  remembered  that  the  fete 
of  the  Convent  of  Sainte  Polentaine  was  to  be 
celebrated  that  afternoon,  and  so  had  her  de- 
fiance of  thermic  conditions  explained. 

That  is  a  fete  of  much  social  importance  in 
Nimes.  To  miss  it  is  to  lose  caste.  Also,  it  is 
interesting  and  delightful.  You  walk  in  the 
garden  of  the  convent.  You  see  prizes  given  to 
little  girls  in  white  frocks.  You  eat  little 
cakes.  In  a  word,  it  is  a  festival  at  once  chaste 
and  discreetly  gay.  That  Madame  Bellarmine 
should  take  part  in  it — even  at  the  cost  of  a 

14 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

grilling — ^was  most  reasonable.  To  be  of  that 
festival  argues  that  one  is  known. 

As  he  watched  Madame  Bellarmine  descending 
the  lane  toward  him,  passing  close  beneath  him, 
going  on  downward  away  from  him,  Monsieur 
Alphonse  regretted  keenly  that  he  had  elected 
to  be  a  recluse.  He  was  filled  with  the  thrilling 
thought  that  had  he  accepted  his  invitation  to 
the  fete — it  was  sent  to  him  regularly,  and  he 
regularly  acknowledged  it  by  a  contribution — 
he  might  at  that  moment  have  been  walking 
down  that  hillside  in  that  enchanting  widow's 
company.  More — ^he  might  have  gone  on  with 
her  to  the  convent;  he  might  have  sat  blissfully 
beside  her  while  the  little  white-frocked  girls 
received  their  prizes;  he  might  even  have  walked 
with  her  in  the  garden  and  eaten  with  her  the 
little  cakes!  Gloom  settled  upon  his  soul.  He 
heaved  wearily  a  deep-drawn  sigh. 

Madame  Bellarmine  became  a  pearl-grey 
speck  in  the  distance.  She  was  quite  at  the  foot 
of  the  hillside.  For  a  moment  the  pearl-grey 
speck  stood  out  distinctly  against  the  dark  para- 
pet of  the  stone  bridge  that  spans  the  Torrent. 
(The  Torrent  justifies  its  name  when  the  rains 
come.  At  other  seasons  there  flows  in  its 
grass-grown  bed  only  a  gentle  current  of  linen- 
bleaching  blanchisseuses  and  bleaching  clothes.) 

IS 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

Then,  beyond  the  bridge,  the  speck  became  a 
mere  whitish  blur  against  the  sun-bright  houses — 
that  passed  onward  into  the  Rue  de  TAbattoir 
and  so  disappeared. 

With  another  sigh,  even  more  deeply  drawn 
than  the  first  one.  Monsieur  Alphonse  Hghted  a 
fresh  cigarette  and  essayed  to  resume  his  study 
of  Positive  philosophy.  On  the  page  that  he 
turned  to  he  read: 

''Having  regard  to  the  general  relation  between 
the  affective  faculties,  we  have  in  effect  recog- 
nized that  the  necessary  preponderance  of  these 
in  the  altogether  of  our  nature  is  nevertheless 
less  pronounced  in  man  than  in  any  other 
animal,  and  that  a  certain  degree  of  spontaneous 
speculative  activity  constitutes  the  principal 
cerebral  attribute  of  humanity,  as  well  as  the 
first  source  of  the  profoundly  incised  character 
of  our  social  organism.  Now,  under  this  aspect, 
one  cannot  seriously  contest  to-day  the  evident 
relative  inferiority  of  woman:  who  is  unfitted, 
in  a  way  very  different  from  man,  to  the  in- 
dispensable continuity,  as  well  as  to  the  high 
intensity,  of  mental  work — either  because  of 
the  lesser  intrinsic  force  of  her  intelligence  or 
because  of  her  more  lively  moral  and  physical 
susceptibilities,  so  antipathetic  to  every  abstrac- 
tion and  to  every  truly  scientific  contention. 

i6 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR   ALPHONSE 

Putting  the  sexes  on  a  parity — even  in  the  fine 
arts,  and  with  the  concourse  of  the  most 
favorable  circumstances — the  most  decisive  ex- 
perience always  eminently  has  confirmed  this 
irrefutable  organic  subalternity  of  the  feminine 
genius,  in  spite  of  the  amiable  characteristics 
which  ordinarily  distinguish  its  brilliant  and 
graceful  compositions.'' 

This  was  more  than  Monsieur  Alphonse  could 
stand.  Uttering  an  exclamation  that  no  philoso- 
pher should  utter,  and  giving  way  to  a  violent 
emotion  that  was  subversive  of  every  philo- 
sophical principle,  he  sprang  angrily  to  his  feet — 
and  sent  Monsieur  Comte  flying  over  the  railing 
of  the  ''Robinson''  in  a  fluttering  crash  to  the 
ground.  The  mere  man  had  triumphed.  Phi- 
losophy was  routed  down  the  whole  line! 


Ill 

Passion  having  conquered  reason,  and  a  return 
to  his  studies — even  had  he  desired  such  return — 
being  precluded  by  the  fact  that  the  outraged 
Comte  lay  hidden,  forty  feet  below  him,  among 
the  cucumber  vines,  Monsieur  Alphonse  gave 
himself  unreservedly  to  tobacco  and  to  tender 
thoughts.  In  part,  Marie's  shrewd  inference 
had  been  well  founded:  he  did  spend  the  whole 

17  I 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

of  the  hot  afternoon  in  the  '* Robinson** — ^but 
less  in  consciously  watching  and  '  waiting  for 
Madame  Bellarmine^s  coming  than  in  dreaming 
dreams  of  which  Madame  Bellarmine  was  the 
soul. 

Yet  was  his  dreaming  not  that  of  a  mere 
ordinary  lover.  As  became  a  professional  phi- 
losopher, he  set  himself  to  formulate,  to  present, 
to  argue,  and  to  decide  upon  his  own  candidature  to 
beatification:  ignoring,  however — while  thus  as- 
sembling in  his  own  person  the  major  function- 
aries, and  while  thus  assuming  one  of  the  most 
important  functions,  of  the  Congregation  of 
Rites — the  rather  important  detail  that  one-half 
of  the  equities  in  interest  were  outside  of  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  court. 

In  his  role  of  promotor  fidei,  vulgarly  known  as 
the  devirs  advocate,  he  urged  that  he  was  more 
than  forty  years  old,  a  celibate  by  choice  (even 
though  his  choice  had  not  been  wholly  volun- 
tary), a  philosopher  by  conviction,  and  a  recluse 
who  had  agreed  with  himself  (even  though  un- 
willingly) to  find  in  his  books  and  in  his  roses 
the  world  well  lost.  This  was  a  strong  present- 
ment of  the  case  against  matrimony;  so  strong 
that  it  seemed  to  relegate  pearl-grey  widows  not 
only  beyond  the  pale  of  his  own  cognizance,  but 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  solar  system. 

i8 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

However,  in  his  role  of  postulator,  he  argued 
on  the  other  side  not  less  convincingly.  A  man 
approaching  middle  life,  a  man  of  good  family, 
of  good  fortune,  with  an  honorable  name  to 
maintain  and  to  perpetuate — surely  such  a  man, 
whatever  might  be  his  personal  likes  or  dislikes, 
owed  duties  to  society  and  to  the  state  which 
might  not  lightly  be  set  aside.  Was  not  the 
first  and  the  highest  of  these  duties  precisely 
matrimony? 

This  was  putting  the  case,  Monsieur  Alphonse 
reflected  with  satisfaction,  as  a  philosopher 
should  put  it.  Love,  passion,  personal  inclina- 
tion were  eliminated  from  the  argument  with  as 
handsome  a  disregard  of  those  irrelevant  yet 
insidious  quantities  as  could  have  been  exhibited 
by  the  great  Comte  himself.  Nor  was  his 
satisfaction  lessened  by  the  fact  that,  as  a 
philosopher,  he  was  compelled  to  admit,  in  reply 
to  his  own  question,  that  of  the  various  duties 
owed  by  a  person  of  his  position  to  the  state  and 
to  society  matrimony  undoubtedly  was  the 
highest  and  the  first.  It  was  no  fault  of  his,  he 
farther  reflected,  that  the  conclusions  of  philos- 
ophy fitted  to  a  hair  his  conclusions  as  a  lover 
and  a  man. 

Then  the  deviFs  advocate  took  up  the  case 
again,    asking    Monsieur   Alphonse    to    answer 

19 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

honestly  what  was  likely  to  become  of  ''Con- 
siderations upon  the  Destiny  of  Humanity'' — 
his  great  work,  for  which  the  ages  had  been 
waiting — if  he  rashly  essayed  to  mingle  his 
exposition  of  superbly  profound  theories  touching 
the  future  of  the  human  race  with  its  mere 
propagation?  What  probability  was  there,  the 
devil's  advocate  asked  coldly,  should  he  yield 
himself  weakly  to  the  distractions  of  a  wife  and 
family,  that  his  magnum  opus  ever  would  be  given 
to  the  world? 

This  was  a  disheartening  question.  As  he 
turned  it  over  in  the  recesses  of  his  inner  con- 
sciousness his  spirits  fell:  until  the  postulator 
cheered  him  again  by  answering  boldly  that 
many  notable  examples  might  be  cited  of  married 
philosophers — even  of  disastrously  married  phi- 
losophers, as  in  the  case  of  the  great  Comte  him- 
self— ^whose  philosophy  had  been  of  a  strength 
and  of  a  soundness  that  had  sent  it  ringing  en- 
duringly  down  the  corridors  of  time.  .  .  .  And 
so  the  devil's  advocate  and  the  postulator  con- 
tinued to  hammer  each  other  briskly  while  the 
afternoon  wore  away. 

When  love  and  reason  thus  are  at  points, 
struggling  for  supremacy,  time  passes  with  an 
amazing  swiftness.  All  the  while  that  the  head 
and    the    heart    of    Monsieur    Alphonse    were 

20 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

lunging  at  each  other  the  sun  was  galloping  west- 
ward— widening  the  narrow  shadows  and  sending 
them  flying  down  the  hillside  closer  and  closer 
to  the  glaring  white  walls  of  the  houses  of  Nimes. 
Toward  those  houses,  in  spite  of  his  preoccupa- 
tion, he  gazed  steadfastly;  his  subconsciousness 
being  keenly  interested  in  the  flying  shadows 
because  of  the  certainty  that  Madame  Bellar- 
mine  would  emerge  from  among  the  glaring  white 
houses,  and  would  begin  her  ascent  of  the  hill- 
side, a  little  while  before  the  sun  went  down  in 
splendor  behind  the  Cevennes. 

At  last  there  came  a  gentle  rustling  of  the 
leaves  about  him  as  a  puff  of  air  played  among 
them — the  advance-guard  of  the  cool  wind  of 
evening  that  presently  would  draw  down  steadily 
from  the  high  garrigues.  At  the  same  instant 
Monsieur  Alphonse  gave  a  start  and  heaved  a 
quickly  drawn  sigh:  as  he  saw  detach  itself 
from  the  white  houses  and  advance  toward  the 
Torrent  a  little  whitish  blur.  During  some 
moments  he  watched  it  intently,  breathing  hard. 
Then  he  sighed  restfuUy:  as  the  whitish  blur, 
being  defined  against  the  parapet  of  the  bridge, 
became  a  pearl-grey  speck  surmounted  by  a 
smaller  speck  that  undoubtedly  was  a  parasol! 

In  the  crises  of  our  lives  our  actions  are 
prompted  by  thoughts  so  swiftly  formed  that 

21 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

we  cannot  follow  them.  We  usually  term  this 
process  inspiration.  That  is  a  term  not  recog- 
nized by  philosophy.  But  Monsieur  Alphonse, 
both  then  and  subsequently,  regarded  as  an 
inspiration  the  thought  which  in  that  pregnant 
instant  took  form  in  his  brain.  In  a  single  flash 
of  supreme  intelligence  an  effective  plan  of 
campaign  became  clear  to  him;  and  so  distinctly 
that  he  set  about  executing  it  with*  a  coolness 
curiously  at  odds  with  the  ardor  in  which  it  was 
conceived. 

Without  haste — he  had  a  good  twenty  minutes 
at  his  disposal — but  with  strong  determination, 
he  descended  from  the  ''Robinson''  and  went 
to  the  tool-house  in  which  were  kept  the  step- 
ladder  and  the  long-handled  shears.  The  path 
that  he  followed  passed  beside  the  bed  of  cu- 
cumbers. Close  at  his  feet  lay  the  volume  of 
Comte  that  he  had  cast  from  him  into  space 
disdainfully.  So  far  from  rescuing  the  great 
philosopher  from  his  humiliating  resting-place 
among  ignoble  vegetables — the  book,  half  open, 
with  crushed  leaves,  Vv^as  a  pitiable  object — Mon- 
sieur Alphonse  did  violence  to  the  principles  of 
half  a  lifetime  by  turning  aside  and  viciously 
kicking  Monsieur  Comte  still  deeper  among  the 
vines! 

His  time  was  ample  for  his  purposes.     Long 

22 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

before  Madame  Bellarmine  had  accomplished  a 
third  of  the  ascent — in  all  the  unconsciousness 
of  a  dove  approaching  the  snare  of  the  fowler — 
he  had  planted  his  ambuscading  step-ladder 
against  the  garden  wall,  close  beside  the  rose- 
bush, and  had  mounted  upon  it  shears  in  hand. 
The  jacqueminot  was  of  a  hugeness.  It  rose 
above  the  wall  high  and  thick,  a  tree  rather  than 
a  bush,  its  great  mass  of  greenery  everywhere 
made  glorious  by  crimson  bloom.  As  he  had 
placed  himself,  he  was  quite  hidden  from  any 
person  coming  up  the  stone-walled  lane  until 
that  person  was  directly  beneath  him  and  in 
front  of  him ;  but  by  snipping  away  a  few  of  the 
clustered  leaves  he  cleared  a  peep-hole  through 
which  he  commanded  a  view  of  the  lane  to  its 
first  turning,  a  hundred  yards  or  so  away. 

It  was  feverish  work  standing  there  on  the 
step-ladder  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  turn  of  the 
wall!  Still  more  feverish  was  the  moment 
when,  fluttering  around  the  turn,  he  caught  a 
glimpse  of  a  pearl-grey  skirt — and  an  instant 
later  saw  the  entire  garment,  and  above  it  the 
pearl-grey  parasol!  Being  behind  the  parasol — 
on  which  the  red  sun-rays  streaming  down  the 
lane  cast  a  ruddy  glow  that  changed  the  pearl- 
grey  to  a  cool  crimson — the  upper  portion  of 
Madame  Bellarmine's  person  was  hidden  from 

23 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

him.  And,  also,  that  ravishing  accessory  to  her 
ravishing  costume  hid  the  way  in  front  of  her 
from  Madame  Bellarmine's  eyes — a  fact  that 
exactly  fitted  in  with  his  plan.  His  whole  body 
quivered  as  he  extended  the  long-handled  shears 
and  cut  quickly  a  half-dozen  roses — which  fell 
precisely  in  her  path.  Then  he  stood  waiting, 
breathless,  expectant,  while  she  slowly  came  up 
the  lane  toward  him  in  the  ruddy  glow! 


IV 

Monsieur  Alphonse's  inspired  plan  worked  to 
a  miracle.  Not  until  the  roses  were  at  Madame 
Bellarmine's  very  feet  did  she  see  them.  Directly 
beneath  him  she  stopped  short,  bending  over 
them  with  a  little  cry  of  delight.  It  was  all 
that  he  had  hoped  for,  and  his  emotion  so  stirred 
him  that  the  shears  clicked  together  in  his 
trembling  hand.  At  the  sound,  slight  but 
incisive,  she  raised  her  head  quickly  and  looked 
upward.  The  warm  walk  had  brought  an 
adorable  color  into  her  face.  That  color 
became  deeper,  and  still  more  adorable,  as  her 
exceptionally  bright  black  eyes  met  full  with 
Monsieur  Alphonse's  eyes — which  also  chanced 
to  be  exceptionally  bright  just  then — at  a  range 
of  something  less  than  two  yards. 

24 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

The  encounter,  in  its  realized  expectation  and 
in  its  utter  unexpectedness,  was  startling  on 
both  sides.  The  gentleman,  long  unused  in  his 
philosophic  reclusion  to  such  passages,  forgot 
even  to  bow.  The  lady,  who  had  not  lived 
wholly  the  life  of  a  recluse,  and  who  made  no 
pretensions  to  being  a  philosopher,  was  the  first 
to  recover  herself.  ''Monsieur  is  most  wasteful 
of  his  superb  roses,"  she  said  politely,  and  at  the 
same  time  smiled  an  altogether  entrancing  smile. 

Monsieur  Alphonse  pulled  himself  together. 
''It  is  no  waste  of  my  poor  roses,''  he  said 
gallantly,  "that  good  chance  has  laid  them  at 
Madame's  feet.''  And  with  that — allowing  for 
his  insecure  position  on  the  top  of  the  step- 
ladder — he  made  Madame  Bellarmine  a  hand- 
some bow. 

"To  take  these  roses  for  my  own,"  she  con- 
tinued, "would  be  only  a  shade  less  than  rob- 
bery; but,  also,  to  take  them  would  be,  perhaps, 
to  teach  Monsieur  a  salutary  lesson.  His  care- 
lessness— I  remember  that  it  was  one  of  his 
youthful  characteristics — seems  to  have  increased 
with  his  years.  Yes,  I  perceive  that  to  take 
them  will  be  to  teach  him  a  useful  lesson — there- 
fore I  shall  rob  him  for  his  own  good."  And  with 
these  words  she  stooped  and  collected  the  roses, 
quite  with  the  air  of  one  who  enforces  a  severe 

25 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

but  just  law.  Standing  erect  again,  in  the  red 
sun-rays,  the  mass  of  crimson  roses  added  a  note 
of  strong  color  to  her  pearl -grey  effect  that 
was  nothing  short  of  maddening  —  a  fact  of 
which  Madame  Bellarmine  not  impossibly  was 
aware. 

'*  Madame  surprises  me  by  the  excellence  of 
her  memory!  To  be  sure,  she  recalls  only  my 
faults.  That,  however,  is  a  detail.  Assuredly, 
her  memory  has  improved  quite  in  pace  with  the 
deterioration  of  my  carelessness.  It  was  not 
precisely  what  one  would  have  called  her  strong- 
est point  some  years — for  example,  twenty 
years — ago.  I  congratulate  Madame  upon  the 
needed  strength  that  has  come  to  this— she  will 
pardon  me  for  calling  it  weak? — trait  in  her 
character. '* 

'*I  have  been  informed,''  Madame  Bellarmine 
replied,  speaking  in  a  tone  of  reflection,  *'that 
philosophy  and  courtesy  have  little  in  common. 
Monsieur  convinces  me  that  this  generalization 
is  sound.  No  doubt  it  is  as  a  philosopher  that 
he  is  good  enough  to  discourse  so  pointedly  upon 
the  imperfections  of  my  character  and  to  refer 
so  pointedly  to  my  age.  I  must  beg  him  to 
observe  that  my  imperfections  are  as  God  gave 
them  to  me;  and,  also,  that  as  yet  my  age  is  not 
excessive.     For    Monsieur's   philosophic    frank- 

26 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR   ALPHONSE 

ness  I  owe  him  a  thousand  thanks!"  The  smile 
that  accompanied  Madame  Bellarmine's  words 
left  little  sting  in  them;  however,  as  they  thus 
came  to  a  recover,  she  distinctly  had  the  better 
of  the  first  passage  of  arms. 

Precisely  because  she  had  the  advantage  she 
refrained  from  using  it.  On  the  contrary,  she 
opened  her  guard.  While  Monsieur  Alphonse 
maintained  a  hesitant  silence  she  continued, 
still  in  a  tone  of  reflection:  ''My  memory  is  not 
so  worthless  as  Monsieur's  strictures  upon  it 
would  imply.  Let  us  take  this  very  matter  of 
roses.  I  remember  clearly  that  some  years — ^for 
example,  twenty  years — ago  Monsieur's  domi- 
nant passion  was  for  roses,  and — " 

*'No,  my  dominant  passion  was  not  for  roses,*' 
Monsieur  Alphonse  struck  in  decisively;  ''it  was 
for—" 

— "and  I  perceive,"  Madame  Bellarmine  con- 
tinued with  a  calm  insistence  that  overbore  the 
interruption,  "that  in  that  matter,  notwithstand- 
ing his  devotion  to  philosophy,  he  has  remained 
unchanged.     His  roses  are  superb!" 

"It  is  not  I  who  have  changed  in  any  way," 
Monsieur  Alphonse  answered — with  so  marked 
an  emphasis  upon  the  pronoun  as  to  imply  that 
everything  but  himself  in  the  whole  habitable 
universe  had  gone  whirling  into  chaos  not  once, 

3  27 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

but  many  times.  * '  It  is  not  I  who  have  changed, ' ' 
he  repeated;  *'it  is — '' 

''Circumstances/'  Madame  Bellarmine  hastily 
interpolated;  and  added,  in  a  tone  of  speculative 
inquiry:  ''As  a  philosopher,  Monsieur  no  doubt 
is  interested  in  the  mutability  of  circumstances? 
I  am  not  surprised.  Truly,  the  weighing  of 
cause  and  effect,  the  analysis  of  the  ebb  and  flow 
of  human  action,  must  be  profoundly  attractive 
to  the  philosophic  mind.  Urged  by  desire, 
swayed  by  opportunity,  we  all — '*  She  broke 
off  suddenly  into  a  delightful  laugh.  ' '  Positively, 
I  am  stealing  Monsieur's  thunder  as  well  as  his 
roses!  I  am  talking  as  though  I  were  a  phi- 
losopher myself!  Monsieur  must  forgive  my 
insolent  temerity  and  my  double  dishonesty. 
I  am  compelled  to  fly  from  him  in  confusion.  I 
wish  him  a  very  good  night.'' 

With  these  words,  Madame  Bellarmine  bowed 
gracefully  and  took  a  slow  step  or  two  up  the 
lane.  That  she  was  not  overtaxing  her  flying 
powers  was  obvious,  as  was  also  the  fact  that  she 
had  her  confusion  well  in  hand. 

The  earnest  and  very  eager  look  in  Monsieur 
Alphonse's  eyes,  that  had  accompanied  his  asser- 
tion of  his  own  stability  and  its  implied  reflection 
upon  stabilities  in  general,  died  out  a  little  as  he 
listened   to   Madame   Bellarmine's   dissertation 

28 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

upon  philosophy;  but  it  revived  again  as  her 
discourse  ended  and  she  began  what  she  was 
pleased  to  term  her  flight. 

'^Stop!"  he  cried.  "Surely  thou  wilt—'' 
Madame  Bellarmine  did  stop — accomplishing 
that  feat  in  statics  without  any  very  extravagant 
outlay  of  energy — and  at  the  same  time  imposed 
silence  upon  him  by  a  commanding  wave  of  her 
hand. 

*'I  venture/'  she  said,  in  a  tone  of  preceptorial 
kindliness,  ''to  correct  Monsieur's  grammar  in 
two  particulars:  His  imperative  verb  is  too  im- 
perative to  match  with  the  requirements  of 
politeness;  and,  also,  his  use  of  the  too  familiar 
pronoun  is  not  precisely  in  good  taste.  He  will 
pardon  my  frankness,  I  am  sure — since  he  must 
know  that  little  slips  of  this  nature  are  set  right 
most  effectively  by  correcting  them  as  they 
occur."  She  paused  long  enough  to  observe  the 
effect  upon  Monsieur  Alphonse  of  her  exposition 
of  grammatical  niceties — an  effect  that  dis- 
tinctly was  disconcerting — but  not  long  enough 
to  give  him  an  opportunity  to  reply.  ''Monsieur 
was  about  to  say,  I  infer,"  she  continued,  "that 
surely  I  would  accept  from  him,  in  addition  to  the 
roses  which  I  have  stolen,  one  more  rose  as  a  free  gift 
— ^in  proof  that  for  my  theft,  and  for  my  venturing 
to  talk  philosophy  to  him,  he  bears  me  no  ill-will." 

29 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

Monsieur  Alphonse's  troubled  look  changed  to 
a  radiant  look,  as  he  answered  eagerly:  ''Thou 
shalt  have  them  all,  Angele.  Hold  here  thy 
parasol.'* 

'Tn  the  matter  of  grammar,''  Madame  Bellar- 
mine  observed,  ''Monsieur  is  incorrigible.  His 
misuse  of  personal  pronouns  positively  is  exem- 
plary, and  now  he  also  is  taking  extreme  liberties 
with  personal  nouns."  But  she  came  beneath 
the  out-hanging  branches  and  held  up  to  receive 
the  falling  roses  her  inverted  parasol. 

Her  wide  sleeves  fell  back  to  her  elbows, 
leaving  bare  a  heavenly  pair  of  rounded  arms. 
Monsieur  Alphonse  snipped  long-stemmed  roses 
slowly.  Looking  down  at  those  arms,  and  at 
her  upturned  face,  lighted  warmly  by  the  last 
of  the  red  sun-rays,  he  had  the  irrational  desire 
to  remain  upon  his  step-ladder  looking  down  at 
her  and  cutting  roses  for  her  through  all  the 
remainder  of  his  days.  Nor  did  Madame  Bellar- 
mine  manifest  any  overt  eagerness  to  have  the 
rose-cutting  come  to  an  end.  Neither  of  them 
spoke.  The  only  sound,  there  in  the  red  sun- 
light, was  the  soft  rustle  of  the  falling  roses  and 
the  clicking  of  the  shears. 

Actually,  it  was  the  failure  of  the  supply  of 
roses  which  closed  this  pretty  passage.  *'That 
is   the  last,"   said   Monsieur  Alphonse   regret- 

30 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

fully — and  would  have  been  thankful  for  the 
intervention  of  Saint  Elizabeth  with  a  miracle 
to  deck  the  bush  anew.  As  he  spoke,  and  so 
ended  the  long  silence,  he  sighed.  He  had  the 
feeling  of  one  waking  slowly  from  a  happy 
dream.  Madame  Bellarmine  also  sighed,  as 
though  she  too  were  coming  back  from  dream- 
land. Perhaps  there  had  been  for  each  of  them 
a  touch  of  hypnotism  in  the  brightness  of  the 
other's  eyes.  Over  the  lady's  eyes  there  seemed 
to  come  suddenly  a  veil  of  softness.  It  may  have 
been  only  a  change  in  the  effect  of  light :  at  that 
moment  the  sun  dropped  down  behind  the 
Cevennes. 

Madame  Bellarmine  roused  herself  from  her 
dreaming.  '* Heavens!''  she  cried.  ''The  sun  has 
set!  I  am  a  person  wicked  beyond  words! 
Beginning  by  stealing  a  few  of  Monsieur's 
roses,  I  have  gone  on  to  what  is  much  the  same 
as  stealing  all  of  them;  and  I  have  kept  Monsieur 
standing  upon  an  outrageous  step-ladder — ut- 
terly away  from  the  improving  influences  of 
philosophy — through  hours  of  his  valuable  time. 
If  Monsieur  were  not  truly  a  philosopher,  and 
therefore  superior  to  human  passions,  he  would 
curse  me  for  the  robber  and  the  beggar  and  the 
trifler  that  I  am !  But  I  am  grateful — I  am  very 
grateful — for  these  roses  which  I  have  begged 

31 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

and  stolen:  and  I  regret  only" — ^her  tone  had  be- 
come serious  and  she  spoke  not  quite  steadily — 
*'that  with  all  the  care  that  I  shall  give  them 
they  so  soon  must  wither  and  die/' 

To  do  Madame  Bellarmine  justice,  the  opening 
that  she  thus  gave  to  Monsieur  Alphonse  was 
not  given  intentionally.  To  assert  that  she 
regretted  having  given  it  would  be,  perhaps,  to 
press  the  point  too  far. 

''These  roses  may  wither  less  quickly  than 
did  those  others — the  roses  which  I  gave  thee 
long  ago,''  he  said  slowly;  and  added:  ''May 
I  bring  thee  more,  when  these  are  gone?" 
There  was  a  note  of  strong  entreaty  in  his 
tone. 

"Monsieur  already  has  forgotten  my  correc- 
tion of  his  grammar.  His  misuse  of  pronouns  is 
shocking  in  the  extreme !" 

"Angele!" 

"And  even  more  shocking  is  his  misuse  of 
nouns!  As  a  friend,  I  advise  Monsieur  to  give 
up  temporarily  the  study  of  philosophy  and 
to  enter  for  a  term  the  junior  form  of  the 
Lycee." 

"May  I  bring  thee  more  of  my  roses?"  Mon- 
sieur Alphonse  persisted,  speaking  still  more 
earnestly. 

"But  probably  Monsieur  would  find  associa- 

32 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

tion  with  very  little  boys  disagreeable.  Certainly, 
for  a  philosopher,  his  position  at  the  Lycee  would 
be  anomalous." 

*'I  beseech  thee — '* 

**And,  therefore,  it  remains  that  the  task  of 
correcting  his  errors  must  be  undertaken  by  his 
friends.  Being  one  of  his  friends,  it  is  my  duty 
to  assist  in  this  good  work ;  and  the  fulfilment  of 
my  duty — since  his  errors,  to  be  corrected,  must 
be  observed — necessarily  involves  occasional  con- 
versations with  him.  If  Monsieur  sees  fit  to 
recompense  me  with  roses  for  the  trouble  that 
his  tuition  will  give  me — let  us  say  at  the  rate 
of  one  rose  for  each  corrected  slip — I  shall  be 
charmed  to  receive  them.  I  have  a  passion  for 
roses,  as  Monsieur  knows.  He  is  at  liberty  to 
begin  his  course  of  instruction  at  his  convenience. 
I  am  at  his  disposition  on  almost  any  after- 
noon." 

''For  example,  to-morrow?" 

*'But  yes.  For  example,  to-morrow.  In  treat- 
ing so  extreme  a  case  of  retarded  grammatical 
development  it  is  well  that  time  should  not  be 
lost.  Again  I  thank  Monsieur  for  his  superb 
roses,  and  again  I  wish  him  good-night." 

And  then  Madame  Bellarmine  really  did  carry 
into  execution  her  previously  announced,  but 
temporarily  restrained,  intention   to   fly   home- 

33 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

ward.      Bearing  her  roses  with   her,  she    went 
onward  up  the  lane. 


Obviously,  in  his  statement  to  Marie  of  the 
afternoon's  occurrences  Monsieur  Alphonse  had 
economized  veracity.  But  again  I  say  that 
much  might  be  forgiven  him  for  making  so  wide 
an  offing  from  the  coasts  of  truth.  That  Marie — 
who  had  no  illusions — took  so  charitable  a  view 
of  the  matter  is  improbable.  When  she  re- 
turned, presently,  bringing  a  glass  of  creme  de 
menthe  in  which  the  ice  scrupulously  had  been 
reduced  to  minute  fragments,  she  continued  to 
bear  herself  with  the  haughty  erectness  of  a 
second-year  conscript,  while  her  general  de- 
meanor was  suggestive  of  a  justly  incensed 
elderly  thunder-cloud  lowering  over  the  peaks 
of  the  Cevennes.  ''Monsieur  is  served,''  she 
said  frigidly,  and  set  the  glass  precisely  before 
him  with  an  exaggerated  show  of  care. 

Monsieur  Alphonse  raised  the  glass  and  sipped 
his  creme  de  menthe  with  satisfaction.  'T 
thank  thee,  Marie,"  he  said.  ''There  now  is  a 
probabiUty  that  my  life  will  be  preserved. 
This  is  excellent.     The  ice  is  a  miracle  of  fine- 

34 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR   ALPHONSE 

ness.  An  angel  from  heaven  could  not  have  pre- 
pared it  with  a  greater  skill. '^ 

Marie  made  no  reply  to  this  handsome  compli- 
ment. She  stood  stiffly,  with  folded  arms.  Her 
silence  was  oppressive. 

**In  the  matter  of  the  soufflet/'  he  resumed, 
continuing  his  effort  to  soften  her  severity, 
*'I  admit  that  I  did  thee  great  injustice.  I  was 
annoyed,  and  I  spoke  petulantly.  It  was  a 
soufflet  that  might  have  emerged  from  a  dream!'' 

So  far  from  accepting  Monsieur  Alphonse's 
tendered  olive  branch  in  the  spirit  in  which  it 
was  offered,  Marie  seized  upon  it  only  to  pervert 
it  cleverly  into  a  weapon  of  offense.  There  was 
a  biting  quality  in  her  tone — a  tone  that  he  knew 
and  dreaded — as  she  answered:  *'So  Monsieur, 
in  effect,  already  has  told  me.  'As  heavy  as  a 
bad  dream'  was  his  description  of  it.  No  doubt 
it  was  what  he  has  declared  it  to  be;  and,  also, 
no  doubt  Monsieur  was  quite  right  in  adding 
that  I  have  grown  useless  because  I  have  grown 
old.'* 

Actually,  there  was  so  much  truth  in  this  state- 
ment— although  it  had  been  made  lightly, 
and  without  malice — that  Monsieur  Alphonse 
was  altogether  conscience  -  stricken.  *' Animal 
that  I  am !"  he  cried  earnestly.  *'To  think  that  I 
should  have  pained  thee  with  my  thoughtless 

35 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

words !     I  must  beg  thee  to  forgive  me,  my  good 
Marie." 

At  that  moment,  however,  the  good  Marie 
was  in  anything  but  a  forgiving  mood.  To 
resume  the  simile  of  the  hovering  storm-cloud, 
Monsieur  Alphonse's  kindly  apology  was  neither 
more  nor  less  than  a  lightning-rod — that  tempted 
the  thunderbolts  to  descend. 
.  **Yes,''  she  continued,  *'as  Monsieur  truly 
says,  I  am  but  a  useless  old  woman.  It  is  high 
time  that  some  light  young  widow  should  be 
called  in  to  rule  his  household  in  my  place.  He 
remembers  no  longer  how  I  have  served  him 
faithfully  his  whole  life  long;  how  I  cared  for 
him  when  he  was  a  little  boy;  how  I  washed  him 
and  dressed  him  and  combed  his  hair — " 

'T  distinctly  remember  thy  combing  my  hair,'' 
Monsieur  Alphonse  put  in  with  acerbity.  ''When 
in  one  of  thy  tempers,  as  now,  it  was  thy  habit 
to  pull  it  till  I  cried!''  Justly,  he  was  nettled. 
Marie  had  mentioned  no  names,  but  her  allusion 
to  a  light  young  widow  was  too  obvious  to  be 
misconstrued. 

*' Monsieur's  memory  being  so  good,  perhaps 
he  remembers  some  other  things — ^for  example, 
what  passed  while  he  was  doing  his  three  years? 
However,  in  order  to  be  any  sort  of  a  widow, 
one  first  must  be  some  sort  of  a  wife.     And,  also, 

36 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR   ALPHONSE 

what  matters  a  little  thing  like  a  broken  pledge 
between  a  boy  of  twenty  and  a  girl  of  seven- 
teen?" 

' '  Silence,  Marie !  Thy  words  pass  all  bounds !" 
Monsieur  Alphonse  himself  of  a  sudden  had  be- 
come a  thunder  -  cloud,  -  But  Marie,  regardless 
of  electrical  conditions  other  than  her  own,  paid 
no  attention  to  his  order  and  continued  her 
discharge. 

''And  Monsieur — who  gives  away  our  superb 
roses  as  though  they  were  cabbages — perhaps 
remembers  another  gift  of  roses  that  he  made 
in  that  long-past  time.  It  was  I  who  carried 
his  gift,  and  Monsieur — who  in  those  days  did 
not  treat  me  as  though  I  were  a  beast  of  the 
fields — confided  to  me  its  meaning.  He  sent  it 
on  the  very  morning  that  he  went  away  to  do 
his  three  years."  Marie  paused  for  a  moment, 
and  then  added:  ''But  they  withered  soon,  those 
roses.  They  were  quite  dead,  he  will  remember, 
when  he  came  home  on  his  second-year  leave. 
And  now,  although  he  is  of  an  age,  and  by  this 
time  should  have  acquired  wisdom,  he  again  is 
giving  his  roses  to  this  same  person — just  as  he 
gave  them  when  he  was  a  foolish  boy!  Oh, 
la,  la!" 

Having  thus  freed  her  mind,  Marie  stood  with 
her  hands  on  her  hips  awaiting  the  explosion 

37 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

which  she  confidently  expected  was  about  to 
occur.  She  even  expected  it  with  a  grim  glad- 
ness— being  just  then  wholly  in  a  battling  mood. 
However,  it  did  not  occur.  For  some  seconds 
Monsieur  Alphonse  was  silent.  Then  he  said, 
speaking  without  passion  but  in  a  tone  of  finality 
that  barred  appeal : 

*'Thou  art  an  impossible  old  woman,  Marie. 
For  a  long  while  I  have  tried  to  make  a  pleasantry 
of  thy  ill  tempers,  believing  that  even  in  the 
worst  of  them  thou  hadst  no  thought  of  real  ill- 
will.  But  now  we  have  got  beyond  the  terms  of 
pleasantry — it  is  quite  time  that  we  should  part. 
Thou  shalt  go  to  thy  nephew  on  the  estate — ^it 
is  the  house  in  which  thy  father  lived  and  in 
which  thou  wert  born — and  I  shall  see  to  it  that 
thou  hast  thy  little  pension  and  that  thou  art 
well  cared  for  there.  But  I  advise  thee — I  very 
earnestly  advise  thee — ^to  be  more  sparing 
with  thy  nephew  than  thou  hast  been  with  me  of 
the  rough  side  of  thy  tongue.  He  is  not  likely 
to  try,  as  I  have  tried,  to  make  a  jest  of  it — that 
brave  man!  Now  thou  mayest  leave  me.  It 
is  my  desire  to  be  alone. '* 

Marie  was  awed  into  silence  by  the  resolute 
manner  of  Monsieur  Alphonse's  deliverance,  but 
beyond  silence  her  awe  did  not  extend.  In 
point  of  fact,  the  sentence  passed  upon  her  by 

38 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

way  of  punishment — that  she  should  take  her 
retreat,  quite  Hke  an  official  of  the  government, 
and  live  upon  a  pension  in  the  very  place  that 
she  most  loved — was  one  that  only  the  occasion 
and  the  terms  of  its  pronouncement  distinguished 
from  a  reward.  Precisely  as  a  reward,  she  had 
been  looking  forward  to  it  for  years.  Naturally, 
therefore,  her  bearing  as  she  left  the  apartment 
was  that  of  a  technically  defeated  general  who 
retires  with  his  colors  and  his  drums. 

On  the  side  of  Monsieur  Alphonse  undoubtedly 
was  substantial  victory — but  he  had  purchased 
it  at  a  price!  That  he  definitely  had  delivered 
himself  from  Marie's  ill-tempered  tyranny  was  a 
cause  for  rejoicing;  but  there  was  no  cause  for 
rejoicing  in  the  reflection  that  he  had  won  his 
freedom  by  the  sacrifice  of  a  cook  whose  cooking 
was  inspired!  The  subject  was  too  painful  to 
dwell  upon:  he  put  it  from  him,  and  passed  on 
to  the  consideration  of  other  matters — a  kaleido- 
scopic mingling  of  Positive  philosophy,  and  step- 
ladders,  and  parasols  filled  with  crimson  roses, 
and  very  bright  black  eyes.  The  effect  was  of  a 
brilliancy — but  over  it  all  was  cast  a  sinister 
shadow  by  the  memory,  touched  upon  by  Marie 
with  such  malignant  coarseness,  of  those  other 
roses  which  had  withered  in  a  long-past  time. 
Therefore  it  was  that  Monsieur  Alphonse  chewed 

39 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

the  cud  of  bitter  fancies,  as  well  as  of  sweet 
fancies,  as  he  sat  smoking  more  cigarettes  than 
were  good  for  him  while  the  night  wore  on.  In 
a  mood  of  gloomy  doubt,  that  put  scandal  upon 
his  normal  Positivism,  he  went  at  last  to  bed. 


VI 

In  the  flooding  sunshine  of  early  morning  in 
the  Midi  somber  thought  is  impossible.  As 
Monsieur  Alphonse  sat  at  the  little  round  table 
on  the  terrace  and  drank  his  coffee — served  by 
Marie  with  a  chill  dignity — ^he  had  within  him 
the  elate  feeling  of  a  hero  to  whom  the  subduing 
of  dragons  is  a  pastime  and  to  whom  the  conquest 
of  giants  is  a  matter  of  course.  They  are  not 
half-hearted  down  there  in  the  South.  With 
them  the  tide  always  is  at  dead  ebb  or  full 
flow.     Usually  it  is  at  full  flow. 

His  brave  feeling  held  by  him  well  as  the  day 
advanced — ^in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  idle 
hours  went  slowly.  As  to  employing  himself 
in  his  normal  manner — that  is  to  say,  in  minister- 
ing to  his  roses  or  in  wrestling  with  some  of  the 
more  abstruse  phases  of  Positivism — it  was  quite 
out  of  the  question.  Rather,  indeed,  was  he 
disposed  to  jettison  his  entire  cargo  of  Positivism 
and  have  done  with  it  for  good  and  all!    In- 

40 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR   ALPHONSE 

stead,  therefore,  of  paSvSing  his  morning  in  his 
garden  in  company  with  his  roses  or  in  his 
cabinet  in  company  with  Monsieur  Comte,  he 
betook  himself  to  the  **  Robinson"  to  pass  it  in 
company  with  cigarettes  and  glowing  thoughts. 

As  he  approached  the  ladder  that  led  upward 
to  that  retreat  among  the  branches  he  perceived 
his  late  master  lying  forlornly  among  the  cu- 
cumber vines — all  the  worse  for  the  kick  that 
had  sent  him  deeper  into  them,  and  sadly 
bedraggled  with  dew.  A  snail  of  perverted 
tastes  had  attached  itself  to  the  volume.  Mon- 
sieur Alphonse  was  not  a  believer  in  the  Pytha- 
gorean Doctrine,  but  the  fancy  occurred  to  him 
that  the  soul  which  but  lately  had  animated  his 
own  body — and  which,  having  given  place  to  a 
soul  of  a  very  different  sort,  certainly  animated 
it  no  longer — ^had  passed  by  transmigration  into 
the  body  of  that  snail.  The  snail  was  quite 
welcome  to  it,  he  said  to  himself  smilingly — and 
he  even  felt  an  inconsequent  glow  of  gratitude 
to  Pythagoras  as  he  mounted  to  the  seat  in  the 
tree-top  whence  he  could  overlook  Madame 
Bellarmine's  abode. 

There,  as  he  smoked  his  cigarettes,  he  con- 
tinued to  play  with  his  fancy — applying  his 
trained  powers  of  analysis  to  the  matter,  and 
arriving  at  the  conclusion  that  the  soul  of  which 

41 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

the  snail  had  become  possessed  had  begun  to 
loosen  itself  in  readiness  for  transmigration  pre- 
cisely two  months  earlier:  that  is  to  say,  on  the 
very  day  of  Madame  Bellarmine's  arrival  at  the 
Villa  Prentegarde.  For  many  years  preceding 
that  day,  thanks  to  the  philosophy  that  he  had 
taken  to  at  first  medicinally  and  subsequently 
as  an  agreeable  mental  exercise,  Madame  Bellar- 
mine  had  been  to  him  only  a  memory  that  was 
held  prisoned  in  the  sealed  chambers  of  his 
mind.  When  this  memory  had  succeeded  in 
escaping,  as  had  happened  now  and  then,  the 
fact  that  he  had  no  certain  knowledge  of  her — 
that  she  merely  existed,  vague  and  unobtainable, 
out  in  the  world  somewhere — ^had  helped  him 
to  catch  it  again  and  to  put  it  back  in  ward. 
But  this  line  of  treatment  had  to  be  abandoned 
in  a  hurry  when — suddenly  ceasing  to  be  remotely 
phantasmal,  and  also  ceasing  to  be  hopelessly 
unobtainable — she  became  an  aggressively  de- 
lightful reality  at  his  very  door.  That  was  a 
situation  far  too  vivid  to  be  dealt  with  effectively 
in  a  philosophical  and  abstract  way;  and  there- 
fore, being  deserted  by — or,  perhaps,  deserting — 
his  philosophy,  he  had  dealt  with  it  in  the 
merely  human  fashion  which  of  necessity  had 
led  on  to  the  crisis  that  had  arrived.  And  so, 
with  a  rather  startling  celerity — and  also,  as  it 

42 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

seemed  to  him,  with  a  nice  appropriateness — 
his  late  soul  had  left  him  to  find  a  more  fitting 
habitation  in  the  body  of  the  snail.  The  fact 
will  be  observed,  however,  that  Monsieur  Al- 
phonse,  although  bereft  of  the  substance  of  his 
philosophy,  retained  its  forms:  a  simple,  every- 
day lover  could  not  thus  have  weighed  his  passion 
so  nicely,  nor  would  he  have  been  likely  to  reduce 
it  to  such  terms. 

His  abstract  reflections  were  ended  abruptly 
by  the  concrete  appearance  of  the  subject  of 
them.  Clad  in  a  loose  white  robe  which  sug- 
gested comfort,  yet  which  was  chic  to  a  degree, 
Madame  Bellarmine  came  out  upon  her  own 
terrace  and  stood  for  some  moments  viewing 
with  apparent  approval  the  world  at  large. 
Then  she  nestled  herself  into  a  cushion-lined 
wicker  chair,  over  which  a  wide-spreading  sun- 
umbrella  cast  an  agreeable  shade.  She  had 
with  her  a  yellow-covered  book,  but  she  did  not 
read  it.  Presently  a  trim  maid-servant  brought 
out  a  great  vase  filled  with  crimson  roses  and 
placed  it  on  a  little  table  beside  her — ^whereat 
the  heart  of  Monsieur  Alphonse  gave  a  bound! 
The  maid-servant  having  retired,  she  drew  the 
roses  closer  to  her  and  bent  over  them.  It 
seemed  to  Monsieur  Alphonse  that  she  kissed 
them.  Then  she  took  from  the  vase  a  single  rose 
4  43 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

and  fastened  it  upon  her  breast.  After  that 
she  sat  quietly,  her  book  lying  unopened  in  her 
lap  beneath  her  folded  hands. 

What  more  she  did  or  did  not  do  that  morning 
was  unseen  by  Monsieur  Alphonse.  Being  a 
gallant  gentleman,  he  recognized  the  fact  that 
spying  upon  her  in  that  way  was  outside  the 
rules.  By  a  mighty  effort,  he  set  his  respect 
above  his  devotion  and  descended  from  the  tree. 
It  was  a  retreat  quite  as  heroic  as  would  have 
been  his  assault  single-handed  upon  a  battery 
of  guns! 

During  the  remainder  of  the  morning  he  paced 
the  walks  of  his  garden  with  the  wearying  per- 
sistence of  a  wild  animal  resentful  of  captivity; 
and  also,  when  breakfast-time  came,  manifested 
a  captive  wild  animal's  repugnance  to  food. 
Marie — whose  ill  temper  had  suffered  ameliora- 
tion, and  who  had  cooked  a  breakfast  for  hira 
that  might  have  betrayed  Saint  Anthony — re- 
garded with  a  lively  concern  his  loss  of  appetite; 
until  her  feminine  intuition  prompted  a  keen 
guess  at  the  cause  of  it,  and  so  induced  a  fresh 
hardening  of  her  heart.  In  her  removal  of  the 
untouched  dishes  she  exhibited  the  stately  re- 
sentment of  a  battlemented  tower. 

The  afternoon  went  better  for  him.  He  had 
occupation:  first  in  cutting  a  basketful  of  roses 

44 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR   ALPHONSE 

superior  to  those  of  the  Mexican  miracle,  and 
then  in  exchanging  the  garments  suitable  to  the 
varied  pursuits  of  rose-culture  and  of  philosophy 
— of  which  the  characteristics  were  great  age 
and  extreme  shabbiness — for  others  more  in 
keeping  with  the  matter  that  he  had  in  hand. 
In  a  way,  there  was  a  touch  of  pathos  in  the  care 
that  Monsieur  Alphonse  bestowed  upon  his 
dress.  With  it  went  a  curious  feeling  that  he 
was  a  boy  of  twenty  again;  and  this  feeling  was 
all  the  more  real  to  him  because  of  the  memories 
which  were  stirring,  below  the  depth  that  had 
been  reached  by  his  philosophy,  in  certain  deep 
chambers  of  his  heart-  He  was  a  personable 
figure  of  a  man  when  his  dressing  was  ended; 
and  not  a  man  conspicuously  superannuated. 
After  all,  one  still  has  left  some  remnants  of 
youthful  vigor  even  at  the  age  of  forty-one. 


VII 


*'I  have  the  honor  to  avail  myself  of  Madame's 
offer  to  amend  my  imperfect  grammatical  edu- 
cation. I  also  have  the  pleasure  to  present  to 
Madame  her  stipulated  honorarium.*'  As  he 
spoke  these  words  Monsieur  Alphonse  bowed 
with  a  great  propriety  to  Madame  Bellarmine; 

45 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

and  then,  again  bowing  with  a  propriety,  placed 
the  basket  of  roses  at  her  feet. 

She  was  seated  in  the  wicker  chair,  as  he  had 
seen  her  from  the  ** Robinson''  in  the  morning; 
but  in  place  of  the  easy  garment  of  white  she 
wore  a  symphony  in  silk  that  had  pearl-grey 
for  its  under-note,  and  for  its  over-note  certain 
touches  of  crimson  which  culminated  in  the  crim- 
son rose  upon  her  breast.  In  some  other  respects 
the  effect  had  changed.  The  sun  had  moved  so 
far  westward  that  all  the  terrace  was  in  shadow; 
the  umbrella  was  gone  from  above  her  chair — 
in  which  silk  cushions,  also  of  a  pearl-grey  with 
crimson  touches,  made  a  nest  for  her;  and  the 
chair  itself  had  been  moved  nearer  to  the  white 
wall  of  the  villa — ^perhaps  not  in  total  disregard 
of  the  artistic  fact  that  under  certain  conditions, 
which  there  chanced  to  be  realized,  a  white  wall 
in  shadow  is  a  rather  tellingly  effective  back- 
ground. On  the  little  table  beside  her  stood  the 
great  vase  filled  with  crimson  roses — a  tre- 
mendous dash  of  strong  color  that  was  as  pleas- 
ing as  it  was  bold.  In  front  of  her,  below  the 
terrace,  lay  the  sun-bright,  flower-filled  garden; 
and  beyond  the  garden  —  with  Monsieur 
Alphonse's  own  dwelling  in  the  foreground — was 
the  view  down  the  olive-clad  hillside  to  the 
gleaming  white  walls  of  the  Nimes  houses,  and 

46 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR   ALPHONSE 

far  away  over  the  city  to  the  chain  of  low  moun- 
tains which  there  borders  the  eastern  bank  of  the 
Rhone.  The  maid-servant  who  had  introduced 
him  into  this  little  nook  in  paradise — a  discreet 
.person — had  closed  the  door  behind  her  as  she 
retired  into  the  villa.  They  were  quite  alone. 
Save  their  own  voices,  the  only  sound  that 
broke  the  afternoon  stillness  was  the  loud  hum- 
ming among  the  flowers  in  the  garden  of  honey- 
seeking  bees. 

Madame  Bellarmine  leaned  forward  in  her 
chair  and  smiled  graciously  as  he  bowed  and 
made  his  decorously  formal  speech — whereof 
the  formality  a  little  was  qualified  by  the  look 
that  was  in  his  eyes.  However,  she  ignored  his 
look  and  answered  his  words:  ''Monsieur's 
grammar  to-day  is  absolutely  irreproachable. 
I  congratulate  him  upon  his  so-marked  improve- 
ment— although,  of  course,  since  he  needs  no 
correction,  I  must  refuse  the  magnificent  hono- 
rarium that  he  offers  me.  It  would  be  quite  of 
a  piece  with  my  theft  of  yesterday  were  I  to 
accept  as  a  gift  that  to  which  I  am  entitled  only 
as  a  fee.  Monsieur  will  do  me  the  favor  to  be 
seated?'* 

With  a  polite  gesture  she  placed  at  his  disposi- 
tion the  one  other  chair  upon  the  terrace — which 
stood  quite  on  the  other  side  of  the  little  table 

47 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

and  therefore  was  rather  bleakly  isolated.  For- 
tunately it  was  so  light  a  chair,  being  also  of 
wicker,  that  he  was  able  to  move  it  to  a  more  ad- 
vantageous position  without  any  very  excessive 
outlay  of  strength.  He  did  not  venture  to  bring 
it  nearer  to  her,  being  satisfied  for  the  moment 
to  place  it  in  such  a  way  that  the  table  no  longer 
intervened  between  them  as  a  wall.  Madame 
Bellarmine  could  not,  in  common  politeness, 
make  protest  against  his  rearrangement  of  her 
furniture.  It  even  is  conceivable  that  she  was 
not  unfavorably  impressed  by  the  spirited  prompt- 
ness with  which  he  thus  carried  the  first  of  her 
outworks  by  assault. 

*' Surely  thou  wilt  not  refuse  my  roses?''  he 
said  entreatingly. 

**My  hopes  for  Monsieur's  educational  im- 
provement," Madame  Bellarmine  replied  with 
an  air  of  melancholy,  *' already  are  blighted! 
Alas,  in  telling  him  that  his  grammar  was  ir- 
reproachable I  was  both  precipitate  and  pre- 
mature !  To  at  least  one  of  these  superb  roses — 
because  of  his  slip  in  the  use  of  pronouns — I 
now  fairly  am  entitled,"  and  she  bent  down  over 
the  basket.  *'But  upon  my  faith,"  she  con- 
tinued, **they  all  are  so  beautiful  that  it  is  quite 
impossible  to  arrive  at  a  choice!" 

* '  Then  take  them  all !    And  with  them  take — ' ' 

48 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR   ALPHONSE 

**To  produce  roses  of  such  magnificence, 
Monsieur  must  have  given  a  great  deal  of  his 
valuable  time  to  a  study  of  their  cultivation,'* 
she  put  in  hurriedly.  ''Almost  as  much,  per- 
haps, as  he  has  given  to  his  study  of  philosophy?'* 

''More,"  Monsieur  Alphonse  answered  dryly; 
and  added:  "Madame  may  remember  that  she 
herself  had  a  liking  for  roses  some  years — for 
example,  twenty  years — ago ;  but  I  scarcely  can 
expect  her  to  remember  that  she  then  was  good 
enough  to  encourage  me  to  form  a  similar 
taste.  It  is  a  fact,  however,  that  my  liking  for 
roses  was  an  outgrowth  of  her  own.  Later,  her 
likings  changed.  Mine  did  not.''  He  paused, 
as  though  to  afford  opportunity  for  comment 
upon  this  statement.  No  comment  being  forth- 
coming, he  continued:  "Madame  would  be  more 
correct,  therefore,  were  she  to  note  that  more  of 
what  she  is  pleased  to  call  my  valuable  time  has 
been  devoted  to  roses  than  to  philosophy.  The 
latter  devotion,  indeed,  was  the  direct  result  of 
the  former:  since,  as  she  may  be  interested  in 
knowing,  I  essayed  the  study  of  philosophy  be- 
cause a  certain  one  of  my  ventures  in  roses  went 
wrong.  Does  Madame,  by  any  chance — now 
that  her  memory  so  wondrously  has  improved — 
remember  the  ill-ending  venture  to  which  I 
refer?" 

49 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

Seemingly,  Madame  did  not.  Certainly,  she 
made  no  reply.  She  sat  deep  back  among  her 
cushions,  her  head  bent  forward  a  little  and  her 
regard  fixed  not  upon  Monsieur  Alphonse — al- 
though he  was  seated  directly  in  front  of  her — 
but  far  beyond  him,  out  over  the  sunny  garden 
and  the  olive  orchards  and  the  gleaming  city, 
upon  the  distant  low  mountains  bordering  the 
Rhone.  He  could  not  even  be  certain  that  she 
was  listening  to  him.  It  was  possible  that  she 
was  listening  to  the  bees — their  humming,  in 
that  alert  silence,  was  sounding  in  his  own  ears 
almost  as  the  roll  of  far-off  drums.  Her  eyes — 
perhaps  because  they  were  strained  a  little  by 
fixedly  gazing  at  a  distant  object — were  less 
brilliant  than  usual.  Over  them  seemed  to  hang 
a  mist,  that  made  the  look  in  them — for  all  that 
it  was  so  strictly  impersonal — rather  thrillingly 
soft.  She  was  very  still:  save  that  her  hands — 
folded,  and  holding  between  them  the  rose  that 
she  had  taken  from  the  basket — twitched  a  little, 
and  that  there  was  a  slightly  tremulous  move- 
ment of  the  crimson  rose  upon  her  breast. 

''Madame  may  not  have  observed  that  I  have 
asked  her  a  question?'*  Monsieur  Alphonse  re- 
sumed— at  the  same  time  partly  rising  and  mov- 
ing nearer  to  her  his  chair.  His  action  roused 
Madame    Bellarmine    from    her    reverie — ^if    it 

50 


f*  tl   »  <»  J»  •, 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR   ALPHONSE 

were  a  reverie — and  caused  her  to  sit  erect,  as 
though  with  the  intention  of  moving  her  own 
chair  backward  and  so  balancing  his  advance. 
However,  her  intention  did  not  materialize. 
In  a  moment  she  leaned  back  again  among  her 
cushions,  her  look  still  fixed  upon  the  distant 
hills. 

*'It  is  unfair,  I  own,''  Monsieur  Alphonse  con- 
tinued, ''to  expect  Madame  to  remember  so 
small  a  matter  that  happened  so  long  ago.  I 
should  explain,  perhaps,  that  the  incident  has 
remained  fixed  in  my  own  memory  because  to 
me  it  was  not  a  small  matter.  In  effect,  it  was 
the  most  important  matter  of  my  whole  life. 
I  have  referred  to  it  only  because  it  explains  the 
seemingly  inconsequent  connection  between  my 
roses  and  my  philosophy — in  regard  to  which  I 
had  the  temerity  to  fancy  that  Madame  took  an 
interest.'' 

'*And  it  was  because  of — of  that  incident  that 
Monsieur  has  devoted  himself  to  roses  and  to 
philosophy  through  all  these  years?"  Madame 
Bellarmine's  gaze  continued  to  be  fixed  upon  the 
remote  mountains  as  she  asked  this  question. 
She  spoke  in  so  low  a  tone  that  her  words  barely 
were  audible  above  the  humming  of  the  bees. 

''Assuredly,  Madame,"  Monsieur  Alphonse  an- 
swered, and  again  he  a  little  advanced  his  chair. 

SI 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

''No  doubt  Monsieur  was  well  advised," 
Madame  Bellarmine  resumed,  speaking  medita- 
tively and  with  more  distinctness.  ''His  roses 
have  returned  worthily  the  loving  care  that  he 
has  bestowed  upon  them.  One  has  only  to  look 
at  them" — she  glanced  downward  at  the  basket 
— "to  perceive  that  they  have  repaid  his  devo- 
tion by  blooming  with  the  splendor  of  the  roses 
of  Paradise!  And  as  they  worthily  have  filled 
his  heart,  so  also,  no  doubt,  his  philosophy 
worthily  has  filled  his  mind.  Decidedly,  Mon- 
sieur has  been  well  advised.  Had  there  been 
another  ending  to  the — the  incident  to  which  he 
refers,  it  is  possible  that  neither  his  heart  nor 
his  mind  would  have  been  so  well  satisfied." 

"It  is  not  possible!"  Monsieur  Alphonse  re- 
sponded with  energy;  and  added:  "Neither  the 
cultivation  of  roses  nor  the  study  of  philosophy 
has  satisfied  me  at  all.  What  was  necessary  to 
my  happiness  when  I  was  young  still  is  necessary 
to  my  happiness  now  that  I  am  old.  Without 
it,  I  am  but  a  broken  old  man." 

"Monsieur  forgets  that  he  is  but  three  years 
my  senior.  He  implies  that  I  am  but  a  broken 
old  woman — and  that  is  an  assertion  which  I 
positively  deny !"  Madame  Bellarmine  attempted 
a  light  tone  and  an  accompanying  light  smile, 
but  in  neither  of  these  attempts  did  she  achieve 

52 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

a  marked  success.  Moreover,  she  lost  another 
point  by  suffering  her  eyes  to  encounter  for  a 
moment  the  eyes  of  Monsieur  Alphonse.  Being 
conscious  that  her  eyes  said  something  quite 
unlike  what  was  said  by  her  lips,  she  hastily 
diverted  them  to  the  distant  hills. 

Monsieur  Alphonse  answered  her  lips  in  the 
spirit  of  her  eyes:  ''For  me,  Angele,  thou  never 
canst  be  old.  I  love  thee  now  as  I  loved  thee 
long  ago — only  more!'' 

This  speech  fairly  knocked  the  buttons  off 
their  foils.  Madame  Bellarmine  drew  a  short 
breath,  and  for  a  full  minute  was  silent — while 
she  nerved  herself  to  go  on  with  sharpened 
swords.  Then  she  said,  speaking  slowly,  **It 
is  conceivable,  Monsieur,  that  a  very  young  girl 
sometimes  may  be  a  fool." 

To  this  proposition  Monsieur  Alphonse  was 
not  prepared  to  make  an  offhand  answer.  The 
truth  of  it  was  obvious,  but  its  immediate  appli- 
cation was  less  so.  To  agree  with  it  might  be 
impolitic,  and  certainly — ^because  of  the  implied 
personal  note — ^would  be  impolite.  Rapidly  re- 
viewing these  several  facts,  and  rapidly  coming 
to  a  conclusion,  he  discreetly  held  his  tongue. 
For  some  seconds,  therefore — ^while  Madame 
Bellarmine  gazed  dreamily  at  the  mountains, 
and   while    Monsieur   Alphonse   gazed   by   no 

53 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

means  dreamily  in  precisely  the  opposite  direc- 
tion— the  only  sound  upon  the  terrace,  coming 
rumblingly  through  the  warm  air  from  the  sun- 
lit garden  below  them,  was  the  loud  humming  of 
the  bees.  Then,  as  no  comment  was  made 
upon  her  broad  statement  of  fact,  Madame  Bel- 
larmine  herself  again  took  up  the  word. 

''And  being  precisely  a  fool,''  she  resumed, 
''it  therefore  is  conceivable  that  a  very  young 
girl — too  young  to  know  rightly  her  own  heart — 
may  commit  an  act  of  folly  that  will  make  her 
whole  life  go  wrong.'' 

"That  depends,"  Monsieur  Alphonse  answered 
judicially,  but  with  an  unjudicial  quaver  in 
his  voice,  "upon  what  she  may  do  later  to  correct 
her  act  of — of  folly.  The  possibility  is  con- 
ceivable that  corrective  action  of  a  positive  sort, 
being  applied  in  good  time,  may  make  her  life 
go  right  again;  and,  also,  if  by  chance  her  act 
of  folly  has  made  another  life  go  wrong  in  much 
the  same  way,  it  farther  is  conceivable  that  the 
same  timely  corrective  action  which  makes  her 
own  life  go  right  again  may  make  that  other  life 
go  right  again  as  well — filling  it,  indeed,  with  a 
happiness  too  great  to  be  told  in  words !" 

"When  correction  can  be  'applied  in  good 
time,'  as  Monsieur  cautiously  observes,  I  admit 
that  such  fortunate  results  sometimes  may  be 

54 


ROSES    OF    MONSIEUR    ALPHONSE 

secured.  But  it  is  a  truth  which  is  recognized 
by  philosophers  generally,  and  therefore  will  be 
recognized  by  Monsieiu*  particularly,  that  the 
errors  of  our  youth  cannot  be  corrected  when  we 
are  old/' 

**  Assuming,  merely  for  argument's  sake,  that 
Madame  might  be  disposed  to  apply  her  im- 
personal generalizations  personally  to  herself, 
I  beg  to  draw  her  attention  to  the  fact  that  she 
is  not  old.  It  follows,  logically,  that  should  she 
desire  to  correct  any  errors  of  her  youth — for 
example,  an  error  that  did  make  another  life  go 
wrong — she  has  abundant  time  in  which  her 
good  intentions  may  be  realized.'* 

''Monsieur  forgets  that  he  repeatedly  has 
commented — yesterday  directly,  to-day  by  im- 
plication— upon  my  advanced  age." 

''Madame  forgets  that  on  each  of  those  oc- 
casions she  perverted  the  meaning  of  my  words 
and  then  denied  her  own  perversion  in  set  terms. 
She  will  observe,  therefore,  that  I  am  but  echoing 
her  own  statement  of  fact,  as  well  as  stating  my 
own  conviction,  when  I  repeat  my  assertion  that 
she  still  has  ample  time  in  which  to  correct  that 
error  of  her  earlier  youth  which  made  another 
life  go  wrong." 

Monsieur  Alphonse  had  endeavored  to  main- 
tain  the   merely   argumentative   tone   suitable 

55 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

to  the  discussion  of  abstractions.  His  en- 
deavor, which  had  not  been  conspicuously  suc- 
cessful, at  this  point  quite  broke  down.  In  a 
tone  that  had  nothing  in  common  with  either 
arguments  or  abstractions  he  added:  ''But  oh, 
remember  how  long  I  have  waited — and  correct 
that  error  now,  this  very  day!'* 

His  last  move  forward  had  brought  him  close 
beside  her.     As  he  spoke  he  clasped  her  hand. 

Madame  Bellarmine,  clearly  worsted  in  the 
argument,  made  no  reply:  half  admitting  her 
defeat  by  suffering  Monsieur  Alphonse  to  retain 
her  hand  in  his  possession;  half  denying  it  by 
still  giving  her  eyes  to  the  far-off  hills. 

*'Wilt  thou  accept  my  roses — all  of  them, 
Angele?" 

Then  Madame  Bellarmine  gave  her  eyes  also 
to  Monsieur  Alphonse  as  she  said,  very  softly: 
**Yes,  I  will  accept  thy  roses" — and  added, 
with  a  delectable  inconsequence:  **We  have  lost 
twenty  years!** 


THE 
POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 


THE 
POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

(A  Pendant  to  "The  Roses  of  Monsieur  Alphonse") 

SAINTS  in  Heaven!  Monsieur  is  bereft  of 
his  reason!"  Cesarine,  Monsieur  Gaillard's 
housekeeper,  uttered  these  words  with  astonish- 
ment and  also  with  asperity.  As  though  in- 
voking the  help  of  the  saints  of  Heaven,  she 
raised  her  hands. 

Toward  Monsieur  Gaillard  the  attitude  of 
Cesarine  at  all  times  was  monitorial.  Having 
carried  him  in  her  arms  in  babyhood,  she  had 
privileges.  As  the  head  of  his  comfortable  little 
establishment  in  Paris — he  had  brought  her  up 
from  Loheac,  his  excellent  estate'  in  vines  in 
the  Midi,  to  take  charge  of  it — she  had  rights. 
That  her  cookings  were  as  of  Paradise  could  not 
be  questioned.  That  her  temper  was  as  of  a 
region  antipodal  to  Paradise  could  not  be  denied. 
Between  herself  and  her  master  there  was  so 
strong  a  friendship  that  its  most  frequent 
manifestation  was  open  war. 

5  59 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

In  effect,  the  scene  that  Cesarine  beheld 
seemed  to  justify  her  discourteous  assertion  and 
to  warrant  her  invocation  of  saintly  aid. 

Seated  at  his  own  dining-table  was  Monsieur 
Gaillard.  In  the  center  of  the  table — covered 
with  a  green  cloth  and  not  laid  for  a  meal — was 
a  large  urn-like  soup-tureen  of  elegant  design. 
Standing  upon  the  cover  of  the  tureen,  and  re- 
taining with  difficulty  his  position  upon  that 
slippery  height,  was  a  black  poodle:  his  head 
upraised  and  his  mouth  wide  open,  as  though — 
as  was  the  fact — ^in  the  act  of  uttering  a  formida- 
ble howl.  Being  a  housekeeper  with  a  high  sense 
of  her  responsibilities,  and  a  woman  of  such 
undauntable  neatness  that  she  would  not  have 
hesitated  to  rebuke  an  untidy  archangel,  it 
was  the  desecration  of  the  best  soup-tureen  that 
reasonably  aroused  Cesarine 's  wrath. 

Monsieur  Gaillard  started,  guiltily.  His  back 
was  toward  the  door,  and  the  door  had  been 
opened  with  so  considerate  a  gentleness  that  his 
first  knowledge  of  Cesarine 's  undesired  presence 
was  conveyed  to  him  in  her  remonstrant  words. 
The  poodle,  taking  advantage  of  the  diversion, 
slid  down  gladly  from  his  bad  eminence  and 
jumped  from  the  table  to  the  floor  with  a  cheerful 
bark. 

'*  Monsieur  perhaps  will  have  the  goodness 

60 


POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

to  explain  this  childish  folly?''  observed  Cesarine 
stiffly. 

''With  willingness,  my  good  Cesarine/'  Mon- 
sieur Gaillard  replied ;  but  in  a  tone  that  had  not 
willingness  as  its  dominant  note.  ''As  thou 
knowest,  this  faithful  animal  is  the  only  creature 
in  the  world  who  has  for  me  an  unswerving 
affection — " 

"Monsieur  pays  me  a  compliment  upon  my 
long  years  of  devotion.  He  will  be  pleased  to 
accept  my  thanks!"  By  way  of  emphasizing 
her  devotion,  Cesarine  glared. 

"Truly,  truly,  my  good  Cesarine,  thy  affection 
for  me  is  above  praise.  But  even  thou  thyself 
must  admit  that  it  is  of  a  brittleness — that  thy 
manifestations  of  it  most  often  take  the  form  of 
a  reproof  and  a  frown.  But  I  will  put  the  case 
in  different  words.  Pierrot  has  an  affection  for 
me  that  in  all  seasons  is  persistent  and  unques- 
tioning. I  am  teaching,  therefore,  that  wholly 
loyal  animal  to  sit  lamenting  upon  my  tomb: 
into  which — broken-hearted  by  thou  knowest 
what  perfidy — I  shall  descend  at  no  distant 
day!"  Monsieur  Gaillard  lowered  his  voice  to  a 
key  of  becoming  melancholy  as  he  uttered, 
appealingly,  these  dismally  prophetic  words. 

Cesarine  refused  to  respond  to  his  appeal. 
With    a    coldness    she    replied,    questioningly : 

6i 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

**  Monsieur  then  has  the  intention  to  be  reduced 
to  soup,  and  to  go  down  into  his  tomb  in  the 
soup-tureen?  This  is  a  new  arrangement.  Re- 
peatedly he  has  informed  me  that  it  was  his 
purpose  to  go  down  into  his  tomb  roasted. 
Truly,  if  Monsieur  desires  to  enter  Eternity 
through  the  kitchen,  I  venture  to  advise  him  to 
adhere  to  his  roasting  plan.*' 

*'My  roasting  plan,  as  thou  so  unfeelingly 
callest  it,  Cesarine,  has  not  been  abandoned.  I 
shall  be  cremated,  as  I  often  have  told  thee,  and 
my  ashes  will  be  deposited  in  a  silver  urn.  This 
urn  will  be  placed  in  the  niche  already  prepared 
for  it  in  my  library.  On  it  will  be  engraved  the 
touching  inscription:  'He  died  of  a  broken 
heartM" 

**Has  Monsieur  arranged  that  the  number  of 
years  shall  be  stated  during  which  the  breaking 
of  his  heart  has  proceeded?  To  my  own  knowl- 
edge more  than  a  score  have  passed  since — be- 
cause of  that  minx — it  had  its  beginning;  and 
even  yet — Monsieur  now  being  turned  of  forty- 
five,  though  I  will  do  him  the  justice  to  say  that 
he  does  not  look  it — I  venture  to  assert  that  the 
process  is  incomplete.  But  we  lose  sight  of  the 
main  matter.  I  would  ask  again:  Why  is  this 
unclean  animal  permitted  to  associate  himself 
with  my  best  tureen?" 

62 


POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

''Putting  aside  the  fact — that  no  one  knows 
better  than  thyself,  who  thyself  saw  to  it  that  he 
was  washed  but  this  very  morning — that  Pierrot 
is  of  a  cleanliness — '' 

"Cleanliness  sufficing  to  justify  association 
with  a  soup- tureen  is  impossible  for  any  dog!'' 
Cesarine  interrupted  hotly. 

'Tutting  that  aside,  I  say,''  continued  Mon- 
sieur Gaillard;  "canst  thou  not  perceive,  dull 
woman  that  thou  art,  that  already  thy  question 
has  been  answered?  Have  I  not  told  thee  that 
my  ashes  are  to  repose  in  a  silver  urn?  Equally, 
have  I  not  told  thee  that  I  have  been  teaching 
Pierrot  to  stand  lamenting  upon  my  tomb? 
The  matter  explains  itself.  If  Pierrot  can  main- 
tain himself  upon  this  slippery  vessel,  it  follows 
that  he  easily  can  maintain  himself  —  while 
howling  appropriately — upon  my  mortuary  urn 
of  silver:  the  top  of  which,  expressly  to  make 
more  facile  his  act  of  devotion,  will  be  somewhat 
flattened,  and  so  roughened  with  embossments 
that  he  will  have  a  hold  for  his  claws.  With  my 
nephew  all  is  arranged.  Once  a  week,  for  so 
long  as  the  worthy  animal  lives,  Pierrot  will  be 
conducted  to  the  library  and  encouraged  to  jump 
to  the  niche  and  thence  to  mount  upon  the  urn. 
There,  for  a  reasonable  length  of  time,  the  faith- 
ful creature  will  remain — uttering  at  intervals 

63 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

lamenting  howls.  Thus  shall  it  be,  Cesarine,  when 
I  am  but  ashes,  that  one  faithful  heart — in  contrast 
with  the  cruel  heart  that  was  unfaithful — will 
mourn  for  me.  Truly,  it  will  be  a  beautiful,  a 
sacred  rite  that  my  poor  Pierrot  will  perform!'' 

Monsieur  Gaillard  for  a  moment  maintained 
a  sad  silence.  Then,  quite  cheerfully,  he  added : 
**Now  I  will  show  thee  how  well  the  good  Pierrot 
has  learned  his  new  trick — ^though  trick  is  much 
too  light  a  word  to  apply  to  an  act  so  animated 
with  a  pensive  tenderness.''  And,  turning  to 
Pierrot,  he  patted  on  the  table  and  said  en- 
couragingly: ** Mount,  good  dog!" 

** Monsieur  will  show  me  nothing  of  the  sort!'' 
cried  Cesarine  sharply  and  strongly.  '*The 
idea  of  it!  To  defile  my  superb  tureen  with 
that  abominable  beast — and  before  my  very 
eyes!  I  shall  place  it  in  hiding  against  such 
sacrilege.  It  will  appear  only  on  occasions  of 
ceremony — when  even  Monsieur  will  be  com- 
pelled to  hold  his  follies  in  control!" 

Accommodating  her  actions  to  her  words, 
Cesarine  snatched  up  the  tureen  from  the  table 
and — cherishing  it  in  her  arms  protectingly — 
bolted  from  the  room. 

Presently,  presumably  having  placed  the 
tureen  in  safety,  Cesarine  returned.     She  had 

64 


POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

the  fighting  blood  of  the  South  in  her  veins, 
this  excellent  woman ;  and  when  that  blood  fairly 
was  up  she  was  not  content  with  a  fight  that 
lasted  through  but  a  single  round. 

**  Having  compelled  Monsieur  to  come  to 
reason  in  the  matter  of  dogs  and  vessels  belonging 
to  the  dinner/'  she  said  resolutely:  **I  shall  be 
glad  to  go  more  deeply  into  that  matter  of  his 
heartbreak.  It  is  a  matter  that — having  heard 
overmuch  about  it — I  would  wish  to  settle  with 
him,  once  and  for  all.  And,  by  Monsieur's 
permission,  we  will  treat  it  seriously.  At  the 
beginning  we  will  grant  that,  other  things  being 
equal,  the  marriage  that  was  to  make  Monsieur's 
estate  of  Loheac  and  the  Roustan  estate  of 
Clerensac  all  of  on.e  tenant  was  reasonable." 

*'That  good  project,"  said  Monsieur  Gaillard, 
speaking  very  earnestly,  **was  deep  in  my  father's 
heart.  He  died  lamenting — and  I  live  lamenting 
— that  it  was  not  realized.  It  was  well  worth 
doing — even  at  a  cost!" 

''But  it  was  not  worth  doing,"  Cesarine  con- 
tinued, *'at  the  cost  of  a  marriage  that  im- 
mediately would  have  repented  itself;  and  that, 
precisely,  would  have  been  its  cost  had  Monsieur 
married  Mademoiselle  Angele  Roustan.  I  will 
ask  Monsieur  to  recall  the  bad  tempers  of  that 
person  even  when  she  was  a  very  little  girl — a 

65 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

chunky  little  girl,  with  over-fat  little  legs  and 
yellow  hair/* 

*'Thou  art  unjust  to  the  poor  Angele,  very 
unjust,  Cesarine.  Her  bad  tempers  were  of 
my  making.  Scamp  that  I  was,  I  would  set 
Froufrou  to  snapping  at  those  plump  legs  of  hers 
that  I  might  enjoy  her  terrors;  that  I  might 
enjoy  her  pain,  I  would  pull  her  yellow  hair!'' 

*' Monsieur's  conduct,  perhaps,  was  not  wholly 
irreproachable.  He  was  a  boy — and  all  boys  are 
imps  of  Satan.  But  how  was  she  later;  when  she 
came  to  be  a  young  lady — always  of  a  romantic 
silliness,  and  always  of  a  pig-headedness  that 
made  her  sullen  when  she  was  contradicted  and 
furious  when  she  was  crossed?  Does  Monsieur 
recall  the  sentimental  follies  that  came  of  her 
convent  readings — and  her  absurd  demands?" 

*'I  remember,"  Monsieur  Gaillard  smiled  a 
little,  ''that  she  wanted  me  to  kill  a  dragon  for 
her.  But  that  was  earlier — after  her  nurse 
had  told  her  the  story  of  the  Tarasque." 

''I  do  not  refer  to  that  period,  as  Monsieur 
well  knows.  I  refer  to  the  time  when  Monsieur 
had  completed  his  course  at  Montpellier  and  was 
come  home  again — to  be  immediately  married, 
as  we  all  believed — and  she  declared  that  he 
must  ask  to  be  called  to  the  colors  of  his  regi- 
ment and  go  for  a  while  and  fight  black  men  in 

66 


POODLE  OFMONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

Africa,  in  order  to  make  himself  worthy  of  her 
by  heroic  deeds;  and  then,  when  he  properly 
refused  to  do  anything  so  crazy,  fell  into  one  of  her 
rages  and  called  him  a  coward/' 

''That  is  not  a  pleasant  thing  to  remember." 
Monsieur  Gaillard  spoke  gravely.  *'It  was  then 
that  the  breaking  of  my  heart  began." 

''Monsieur  is  asked  to  keep  in  mind  that  we 
now  are  talking  seriously.  His  heart,  as  he  well 
knows,  never  was  even  near  breaking.  He  has 
played  with  that  fancy  because  his  nature  is 
whimsical — and  it  has  served  him  as  an  excellent 
excuse  when  at  first  his  good  parents,  and  later 
his  friends,  have  urged  him  to  range  himself  by 
marrying:  a  state  for  which  I  am  of  the  opinion, 
based  on  knowledge,  that  he  has  little  aptitude 
and  absolutely  no  desire." 

Cesarine  undoubtedly  knew  much  that  justified 
this  assertion.  In  spite  of  herself,  as  she  made 
it,  she  smiled.  Monsieur  Gaillard,  knowing 
her  knowledge,  openly  laughed. 

"With  Monsieur's  permission,  then,"  she  re- 
sumed, "we  will  leave  the  broken  heart  out  of 
the  question.  But  Monsieur  has  reason  in  say- 
ing that  when  his  refusal  was  given  to  that  silly 
fancy,  a  most  just  refusal,  the  end  had  its  begin- 
ning. His  heart  was  not  broken,  but  it  was 
hurt;  and  the  hurt  was  deepened  by  the  sudden 

67 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

anger  that  met  his  refusal — and  that  continued 
after  it  until  the  end  came.  For  me,  I  am  as- 
sured that  the  head  of  that  young  lady  had 
maggots  in  it.     Nothing  less  explains!'' 

''She  certainly  had  peculiarities/'  Monsieur 
Gaillard  admitted. 

''Beyond  a  question,  she  did  have  peculiari- 
ties!" said  Cesarine  with  emphasis.  "What  a 
life  she  must  have  led  that  poor  Monsieur  Beau- 
melle — whom  she  married  in  her  spiteful  anger, 
and  whom  she  so  soon  harried  into  his  grave! 
Monsieur  certainly  has  no  need  to  be  heart- 
broken because  it  was  not  on  his  own  back  that 
her  blows  fell !  And  observe  what  has  come  of  it 
all!  By  her  absences  and  her  bad  managings 
she  has  made  ricochets  of  Clerensac — until,  they 
say,  the  vines  are  near  ruined.  That  part 
saddens  me:  when  I  think  of  how  Monsieur,  by 
his  cares  and  his  sagacities,  would  have  grown 
on  those  vines — as  on  his  own  of  Loheac — har- 
vests of  grapes  which  would  have  yielded  streams 
of  gold.  Killing  dragons  and  fighting  black 
men,  indeed,  for  such  a  woman!  Even  at  the 
cost  of  losing  Clerensac,  Monsieur  has  made  a 
good  escape.  I  give  him  my  felicitations  with 
my  whole  heart!" 

Cesarine  drew  a  long  breath,  and  for  a  moment 
was   silent — ^while   she   enjoyed   the   feeling   of 

68 


POODLE  OFMONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

conscious  rectitude  that  attends  upon  one  who 
has  cleared  the  air  by  exhibiting  unpleasant 
facts  bared  to  their  very  bones.  But  the 
affair  of  the  tureen  still  rankled,  and  her  moral 
yet  remained  to  be  applied. 

''And  now  I  would  have  Monsieur  to  under- 
stand/' she  resumed,  speaking  in  a  strong 
voice,  ''that  this  matter  of  his  broken  heart — 
while  a  fancy  that  he  is  free  to  play  with  in  any 
harmlessly  foolish  fashion  that  pleases  him — 
never  again  is  to  be  made  an  excuse  for  such 
disgraces  as  he  and  Pierrot  together  have  put  upon 
propriety  to-day.  Pierrot,  at  the  best,  is  filled 
to  suffocation  with  desires  to  commit  unimagin- 
able sinnings.  If  my  back  is  turned  upon  him  for 
but  one  single  instant — and  he  watches  for  that 
instant — he  delights  in  occupying  himself  in 
malignant  crimes.  It  is  enough  that  my  life 
should  be  made  a  burden  to  me  by  interminable 
iniquities  of  his  own  devising;  it  is  far  too  much — 
far  more  than  I  will  put  up  with — that  Monsieur 
should  set  him  to  the  doing  of  even  viler  acts  of 
wickedness  than  come  from  the  conceivings  of 
his  own  evil  heart.  Solemnly,  then,  I  warn 
Monsieur  that  this  odious  scene  must  not  be 
repeated.  Solemnly  I  tell  him  that  if  again 
he  mixes  his  revolting  dog  with  my  dishes  it 
must  be  over  my  dead  body — and  even  my  dead 

69 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

body  will  thrill  with  a  just  horror  if  over  it  such 
profligate  pollutions  occur!'' 

Having  thus  delivered  herself,  in  a  manner 
that  left  Monsieur  Gaillard  crushed  by  the  logic 
of  her  argument  and  stunned  by  the  energy  of 
her  climax,  Cesarine  retired  in  good  order  to  the 
kitchen;  proudly  conscious  that  in  this  battle  of 
her  own  inviting  she  had  driven  home  a  vic- 
torious charge. 

So  far  as  they  concerned  Monsieur  Gaillard 's 
supposititious  heartbreak,  Cesarine's  several  as- 
sertions— while  perhaps  a  little  warped  by  her 
prejudices — essentially  were  statements  of  fact. 
So  far  as  they  concerned  the  iniquities  of  Pierrot, 
less  can  be  said — since  in  making  them  her 
prejudices  fairly  had  carried  her  away. 

That  Pierrot  had  a  hatful  of  impish  traits  is 
undeniable — he  would  not  have  been  a  poodle 
without  them.  But  they  far  were  outweighed — 
save  in  the  estimation  of  Cesarine,  upon  whom 
for  the  most  part  they  were  practised — ^by  his 
many  interesting  and  engaging  amiabilities. 
In  addition  to  being  a  dog  of  a  most  loving 
and  lovable  nature,  he  was  the  possessor  of  such 
rare  intelligence  that  he  easily  had  acquired  an 
extraordinarily  varied  equipment  of  elegant 
accomplishments  —  and  so  thoroughly  that 
prompting  was  unnecessary  to  assure  their  dis- 

70 


3 

in 
W 
H 

o 

w 

o 


1*    »  > . > 


POODLE  OFMONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

play.     Keeping  them  in  his  pocket,  he  produced 
them  of  his  own  accord  as  occasion  required. 

Thus,  of  a  morning,  it  was  his  habit,  unbidden, 
to  enter  his  master's  chamber  in  the  immediate 
wake  of  his  master's  coffee.  His  entry  was 
made  on  his  hind  legs.  Being  come  to  the  center 
of  the  room,  holding  himself  always  with  a 
soldierly  erectness,  he  raised  to  his  forehead  his 
right  paw.  In  that  military  attitude  of  respect 
he  remained  until  his  salute  had  been  returned. 
Then,  with  a  genial  bark  by  way  of  saying  good 
morning,  he  resumed  the  use  of  his  normal  supply 
of  legs  and  chased  around  the  room  with  great 
realism  an  imaginary  cat — a  performance  that 
was  the  more  interesting  because  it  wholly  was 
an  invention  of  his  own.  As  the  spirit  moved 
him,  other  of  his  tricks  were  exhibited;  and  in 
conclusion,  walking  on  his  hind  legs  and  carrying 
carefully  in  his  mouth  a  saucer,  he  solicited  and 
received  his  rewarding  lumps  of  sugar :  which  he 
ate  with  such  nicety,  after  placing  the  saucer 
on  the  floor,  that  even  Cesarine — who  was  not 
in  accord  with  this  use  of  sugar — could  not  find 
remaining  on  the  sedulously  waxed  tiles  so 
much  as  a  single  contaminating  grain. 

On  the  morning  sequent  to  the  affair  of  the 
soup-tureen  this  pleasing  ceremony  was  cut  to  a 

71 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

shortness  that  was  not  at  all  to  Pierrot's  liking. 
Being  an  artist,  he  respected  his  art  and  was 
pained  when  it  was  slighted.  The  scant  atten- 
tion accorded  to  him  by  Monsieur  Gaillard  hurt 
his  feelings :  as  he  made  manifest  by  stopping  in 
the  very  act  of  standing  on  his  head — ^his  most 
notable  performance — and  retiring  to  a  corner 
in  a  dignified  sulk.  Under  ordinary  conditions 
Monsieur  Gaillard  would  have  apologized;  but 
on  that  particular  morning  he  was  in  very  much 
of  a  hurry  and  had  matters  of  a  gravity  upon  his 
mind.  An  affair  of  importance  with  a  wine- 
merchant — an  affair  that  for  some  time  had  been 
in  progress,  and  not  in  smooth  progress — ^was  to 
be  concluded  within  the  next  hour  or  two. 
With  his  thoughts  thus  deeply  engaged,  he  made 
no  more  than  a  perfunctory  effort  to  soothe 
Pierrot's  hurt  feelings;  drank  his  coffee  in  un- 
seemly gulps,  and  hastened  away  anxiously  to 
the  Halle  aux  Vins. 

His  return,  some  hours  later,  was  of  a  smiling 
leisureliness.  His  affair  with  the  wine-merchant 
had  been  concluded  to  a  marvel — better  than  his 
expectations,  better  even  than  his  hopes.  Feel- 
ing that  he  had  earned  his  breakfast,  he  looked 
forward  to  eating  that  meal  with  a  just  pleasure — 
that  made  him  sniff  eagerly  at  the  agreeable 
whiffs  from  it  which  came  to  him  as  he  opened 

72 


POODLE  OFMONSIEURGAILLARD 

his  door.  To  his  surprise,  he  was  not  met  at  the 
door  by  Pierrot — whose  habit  it  was  to  welcome 
his  returns  punctually,  and  to  carry  to  his 
dressing-room  his  cane  and  his  gloves.  But 
Pierrot's  dereliction  was  put  in  the  background 
by  the  odor  of  the  breakfast :  which  his  nose  in- 
formed him  was  something  out  of  the  common — 
as  usually  was  the  case  on  the  mornings  follow- 
ing the  evenings  when  Cesarine  and  her  master 
had  been  at  odds.  Hurrying  to  his  dressing- 
room,  and  thence  to  the  breakfast  -  table,  he 
awaited  his  feast  impatiently — ^yet  even  in  his 
impatience  noted  with  satisfaction  that  the 
soup- tureen  was  back  in  its  place  on  the  buffet. 
*'Ah,  the  good  Cesarine  bears  no  malice,''  he 
thought  kindly.     ''Peace  is  restored!" 

Yet  there  was  something  in  Cesarine 's  look 
and  manner,  as  she  brought  the  omelette,  that 
distinctly  was  disturbing.  Her  movements  were 
abrupt  and  awkward.  She  had  an  evasive  air — 
almost  an  air  of  guilt.  Beneath  her  eyes — which 
looked  everywhere  but  into  Monsieur  Gaillard's 
eyes — were  dark  marks.  As  she  placed  the 
omelette  on  the  table  her  hands  trembled. 
Positively,  had  she  seasoned  it  with  hellebore 
her  manner  could  not  have  been  more  odd! 

''Clearly,  peace  is  not  restored,"  was  Mon- 
sieur Gaillard's  internal  comment  upon   these 

73 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

curious  manifestations  of  Cesarine's  mental 
uneasiness.  But  experience  had  taught  him  that 
domestic  crises  of  this  nature — rarely,  however, 
of  this  intensity — best  were  dealt  with  by 
ignoring  them.  Pursuing,  then,  the  laissez- 
faire  policy,  and  also  touching  on  a  matter  that 
was  beginning  to  cause  him  some  anxiety,  his 
spoken  words  were :  ' '  Where  is  Pierrot,  my  good 
Cesarine?  He  did  not  meet  me  at  the  door,  and 
he  is  not  here  to  breakfast  with  me.  I  offended 
him  this  morning.  Has  the  brave  beast  felt 
my  rudeness  so  keenly  that  he  has  become  ill?'' 
•  '*I  have  no  knowledge  of  Pierrot's  health, 
Monsieur,"  Cesarine  answered  coldly,  but  with 
a  curious  catch  in  her  voice. 

*'But  where  is  he?  The  tureen,  I  observe, 
is  not  locked  up.  Surely,  in  thy  anger,  thou  hast 
not  locked  up  the  dog?" 

**I  have  not  locked  up  the  dog.  Monsieur. 
As  Monsieur  knows,  locking  him  up  would  be 
useless.  He  is  in  league  with  the  devil,  that 
animal!  He  can  open  all  doors  easily,  and 
even  can  turn  keys." 

**It  is  thy  own  evil  temper  that  should  be 
under  lock  and  key,"  said  Monsieur  Gaillard 
hotly;  and  more  hotly  added:  '* Bring  Pierrot 
to  me  without  another  single  instant  of  delay!" 

Cesarine  quailed  for  a  moment.     Then,  pulling 

74 


POODLE  OFMONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

herself  together,  she  answered  stolidly:  *'It  is 
impossible  to  comply  with  Monsieur's  command. 
Pierrot  is  not  in  the  apartment.  Pierrot  has 
disappeared!'' 

Had  the  uneaten  remnant  of  the  omelette 
suddenly  transformed  itself  into  a  bomb  and 
exploded,  Monsieur  Gaillard  would  not  have 
been  more  effectually  stunned  than  he  was  by  this 
doomful  utterance.  Articulate  speech  was  quite 
beyond  his  power. 

Breaking  the  oppressive  silence,  Cesarine  her- 
self took  the  word.  With  head  bowed  down,  and 
speaking  in  a  strained  voice  that  lacked  inflection 
— the  voice  that  a  murderess  would  use  in  making 
her  confession — she  continued:  ''It  is  not  my 
fault.  Monsieur.  The  matter  happened  in  this 
way:  Pierrot  accompanied  me  this  morning,  as 
always,  when  I  went  to  make  my  marketings. 
As  always,  he  carried  the  basket.  As  always — 
disregarding  the  purity  of  my  basket,  disregard- 
ing everything  but  the  gratification  of  his  own 
low  desires  for  amusement — ^he  engaged  himself 
in  conversation  with  every  ill-conditioned  cur 
that  we  met  upon  the  way.  I  will  do  him  the 
justice  to  say  that  it  was  in  the  company  of  a  dog 
of  good  breeding  that  he  vanished :  the  pug  that 
the  stout  lady  carried,  and  that — almost  as 
though  she  sought  to  attract  our  Pierrot's 
6  75 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

attention — she  put  down  out  of  her  arms  as  he 
drew  near.     Naturally,  Pierrot — '' 

''Vanished?  Stout  lady?  Pug?  What  far- 
rago is  this,  Cesarine?    Art  thou  crazed?'* 

In  dull  tones  Cesarine  went  on:  ''The  stout 
lady  with  the  pug,  as  I  have  told  Monsieur,  was 
as  though  waiting  for  our  coming.  On  the  in- 
stant that  Pierrot  entered  into  conversation 
with  the  pug — Pierrot  had  run  on  ahead  of  me — 
she  turned  a  corner  quickly.  After  her  went 
the  pug.  After  the  pug  went  Pierrot.  When  I 
came  to  be  arrived  at  the  corner  they  all,  as  I 
say,  had  vanished.  Only  my  respectable  basket, 
lying  abandoned  in  the  gutter,  remained.  In  the 
whole  street  there  was  to  be  seen  nothing  moving 
save  a  fiacre  that  was  driving  rapidly  away!'* 

"Well?''  demanded  Monsieur  Gaillard  sternly. 

"I  called  for  Pierrot,  Monsieur,  ceaselessly. 
My  callings  were  unheeded.  I  waited  for  his 
return  with  a  patience."     Cesarine  groaned. 

"Well?"  demanded  Monsieur,  still  more 
sternly. 

Cesarine  covered  her  face  with  her  apron 
and  gave  vent  to  sobs.  From  beneath  her 
apron,  in  a  voice  that  her  sobs  rendered  almost 
inarticulate,  she  answered  despairingly:  "Mon- 
sieur, he  did  not  return!" 

Stricken  by  those  words  of  woeful  finality  as 

76 


POODLE  OFMONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

by  a  thunderbolt,  Monsieur  Gaillard  clutched 
his  forehead  and  uttered  a  lamentable  cry. 
Then,  leaning  forward  upon  the  breakfast-table — 
only  by  a  hair's  breadth  escaping  the  omelette 
— ^he  buried  his  face  in  anguish  in  his  hands! 

Broken  only  by  Cesarine's  snuflfling  sobs — the 
emotion  of  Monsieur  Gaillard  was  too  profound 
for  audible  expression — there  rested  during  some 
heartbreaking  moments  upon  that  chamber  of 
desolation  an  agonized  silence.  Then,  suddenly, 
a  bell  rang  sharply — the  bell  of  the  outer  door. 

Monsieur  Gaillard,  overwhelmed  by  his  grief, 
remained  unmoved  by  this  interruption.  Cesar- 
ine,  automatically  responding  to  the  summons 
to  discharge  an  every-day  duty,  automatically 
went  to  the  door  and  opened  it.  Outside  was  a 
commissionnaire,  holding  in  his  hand  a  letter. 
*'No  answer!"  he  said  curtly,  giving  the  letter  to 
Cesarine,  and  hurried  down  the  stair.  Evi- 
dently, his  instructions  as  to  the  delivery  of  the 
letter  must  have  been  explicit — since  the  whole 
of  the  address  upon  it,  in  a  handwriting  curious- 
ly cramped,  was:  **To  Monsieur  the  owner  of 
Pierrot." 

For  an  instant  Cesarine *s  wits  failed  to  act. 
Then  they  overacted.  ''Monsieur!  Monsieur!" 
she  cried  joyfully.  ''Pierrot  is  not  lost.  Here  is 
a  letter  that  he  himself  has  written  to  tell  us 

77 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

where  he  is!''  And  under  her  breath  she  added: 
*'He  is  capable  of  it,  that  animal — who  is  of  the 
same  breast  with  the  imps  of  sin!" 

'*Thou  art  demented,  Cesarine,''  Monsieur 
Gaillard  answered  shortly.  But  it  was  with  a 
thrill  of  hope,  aroused  by  the  strange  super- 
scription, that  he  opened  the  letter;  and  his  hope 
grew  stronger  as  he  read  these  cheering  but 
somewhat  cryptic  words:  ''With  a  friend  no 
less  faithfully  affectionate,  Pierrot  awaits  here 
his  master's  coming" — to  which  was  added  an 
address  in  a  street  of  a  minor  importance,  but 
of  a  conceded  respectability,  in  the  region  lying 
to  the  northwestward  of  the  Arch. 

Cesarine — persisting  in  the  direction  that  her 
overacting  wits  had  taken — demanded  eagerly: 
''Where  is  he?  What  is  it  that  the  brave  beast 
tells  of  himself?" 

"Imbecile  woman!"  Monsieur  Gaillard  re- 
sponded discourteously.  "Bring  me  at  once  my 
hat  and  my  gloves!"  In  another  instant,  leaving 
his  unfinished  breakfast  to  languish,  he  had 
departed  on  the  wings  of  the  wind ! 

"It  is  a  dog  that  Monsieur  is  in  search  of?" 
said  the  concierge  politely.  "Certainly.  To 
the  fourth,  if  Monsieur  pleases.  I  myself  will 
have  the  pleasure  to  sound  the  bell." 

78 


POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

''To  the  fourth?'*  Monsieur  Gaillard  queried, 
a  little  doubtfully. 

''To  the  fourth,  if  Monsieur  pleases,''  the 
concierge  repeated;  and  added:  "Monsieur  is 
expected.  The  door  is  directly  at  the  head  of 
the  stair." 

During  his  drive  Monsieur  Gaillard  had  had 
ample  leisure — a  Paris  cab  having  little  in 
common  with  the  wings  of  the  wind  on  which  he 
had  started — to  read  repeatedly  the  curious 
letter  that  had  sent  him  on  his  quest;  and  with 
each  reading  of  it  the  words  "with  a  friend  no 
less  faithfully  affectionate"  increasingly  had 
aroused  in  him  a  curiosity  that  was  not  unmixed 
with  doubt.  To  the  best  of  his  knowledge,  he 
had  not  in  all  that  quarter  of  the  city  even  a 
remote  acquaintance — let  alone  a  faithfully 
affectionate  friend.  There  was  a  disquieting 
suggestion  of  allurement  in  the  phrase;  and  this 
suggestion  became  stronger  when  he  found  that 
his  destination  was  an  apartment  above  and 
away  from  the  street  by  four  flights  of  stairs. 
As  he  mounted  those  stairs,  with  a  cumulative 
slowness,  he  regretted  that  he  had  neglected  to 
bring  with  him  his  cane. 

Being  arrived  at  last  at  the  fourth  floor,  he 
found  the  door  of  the  stair-head  held  open  for 
him  by  an  elderly  maid-servant:  about  whom 

79 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

there  was  something  vaguely  familiar  which 
gave  him  the  feeling  that  in  another  moment  he 
would  remember,  and  would  call  her  by,  her  name. 
That  her  memory  was  more  precise,  and  worked 
with  accuracy,  was  demonstrated  by  her  words. 
''Good  day,  Monsieur  Gaillard,''  she  said  with 
a  smile  of  recognition  and  of  welcome.  *'Be 
good  enough  to  enter.  Madame  in  a  moment 
will  attend.'* 

To  his  surprise,  she  did  not  speak  in  French, 
but  in  the  langue  d'oc  of  his  own  Southern  home. 
In  this  fact  there  seemed  to  him  to  be  a  clue  to 
his  vague  memories — but  he  did  not  pursue  it, 
because  at  that  instant  there  came  from  beyond 
a  closed  door  at  the  end  of  the  passage  a  volley 
of  rejoicing  barks. 

''Ah,  the  good  beast!'*  said  the  maid-servant. 
"He  perceives  that  his  master  is  near  him!  I 
would  release  him  at  once  to  happiness  but  for 
my  commands.  It  is  Madame  herself  who  would 
confer  that  pleasure  upon  him— and  upon  Mon- 
sieur.'* While  thus  speaking,  the  maid-servant 
had  led  Monsieur  Gaillard  to  the  doorway  of  the 
salon.  "In  but  another  moment  Madame  will 
attend,"  she  repeated,  standing  aside  that  he 
might  enter — and  so  left  him,  closing  behind  her 
the  door. 

After  his  pull  up  the  stairs.  Monsieur  Gaillard 

80 


POODLE  OFMONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

thankfully  seated  himself — in  an  exceptionally 
broad  arm-chair,  covered  with  crimson  plush  and 
having  on  its  back  a  green  t^tiere  embroidered 
energetically  with  purple  flowers  —  and  with 
a  natural  interest  looked  around  him.  His  first 
glance  assured  him  that  his  regrets  for  his  cane 
were  needless.  Smilingly  he  perceived  that 
whatever  dangers  might  lurk  in  that  highly 
emphasized  little  salon  they  were  not  of  the  sort 
to  be  attacked  with  canes. 

In  its  very  essence  the  room  was  feminine: 
crowded  with  knickknacks,  obviously  of  a 
souvenir  type;  cluttered  with  overloaded  little 
tables;  the  dominant  pictures  of  a  religious  type; 
on  all  the  chair-backs  polychromatic  discords 
done  in  crewels.  Yet  the  chairs,  oddly,  were  of 
an  extraordinary  width  and  massiveness.  Not 
one  of  them  but  would  have  sustained  uncom- 
plainingly an  unusually  broadly  based  and  very 
heavy  man.  The  scheme  of  color — in  the  car- 
pet, the  wall-paper,  the  curtains,  the  upholstery, 
the  crewel- work  t^tieres — was  nothing  less  than 
staggering.  It  was  as  though  an  ill-made  rain- 
bow had  exploded  in  a  bad  dream.  Yet  this  vio- 
lent salon — ^while  it  fairly  set  his  teeth  on  edge — 
made  a  reminiscent  appeal  to  Monsieur  Gaillard 
in  which  was  a  note  of  pathos:  turning  his 
thoughts — already  bent  in  that  direction  by  the 

8i 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

maid-servant's  use  of  his  own  home  language— 
to  the  many  other  Hke  salons  that  he  had  known 
so  well,  down  there  in  the  Midi,  when  he  was  a 
boy. 

The  moment  lengthened  in  which  Madame 
the  owner  of  this  chatoyant  apartment  was  to 
appear.  With  an  interest  quickened  by  the 
stirring  of  his  youthful  memories,  Monsieur 
Gaillard  arose  from  his  chair  and  began  an  in- 
spection of  the  countless  queer  little  objects — 
statuettes,  carvings,  framed  photographs,  fan- 
tastic trifles  in  bronze  and  glass  and  china — 
which  were  strewn  thickly  about  the  room.  It 
was  an  inspection  that  by  turns  invited  his 
smiles  and  compelled  his  shudders — until,  com- 
ing to  the  mantel-shelf,  both  smiles  and  shudders 
were  submerged  in  the  emotion  incident  to  a  * 
sharply  startling  surprise.  In  that  place  of 
honor,  as  in  a  shrine,  flanked  on  the  one  side 
by  a  stuffed  cat  (presumably  a  deceased  pet), 
and  on  the  other  by  a  large  statuette  of  the 
Virgin  of  •  Lourdes,  was  a  silver-framed  photo- 
graph of — ^himself! 

But  it  was  the  himself  of  a  far  back,  a  more 
than  thirty  years  back,  past.  The  photograph, 
faded  and  dim,  was  a  carte-de-visite — of  the 
time  when  the  fashion  set  by  the  Duke  of  Parma, 
having  spent  itself  in  Paris,  was  regnant  in  the 

82 


POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

provinces — of  a  curly-headed  boy  of  twelve. 
He  remembered  with  a  thrill  his  intense  joy  when 
it  was  taken — down  there  in  Cette,  whither  he 
had  been  carried  by  his  father,  who  had  wine 
matters  to  attend  to,  as  a  reward  for  having 
passed  well  his  examinations  for  the  Lycee; 
and  his  pride,  when  he  was  come  home  again 
to  Loheac,  in  leaving  these  elegant  proofs  that 
he  was  a  man  of  fashion  at  the  homes  of  his 
neighboring  friends.  That  one  of  the  little 
pictures  should  have  survived  so  long;  that  he 
should  find  it  amidst  such  grotesque  surround- 
ings; that  it  so  obviously  was  cherished  as  the 
greatest  treasure  that  the  owner  of  that  museum 
of  tawdry  oddities  possessed:  all  this  made  up  a 
triple  marvel  that  fairly  brought  him  to  a  stand. 
And  then  a  fourth  dimension  was  added  to  his 
wonder.  As  he  held  the  little  picture  in  his  hand, 
closely  examining  it  for  some  hint  of  its  history, 
he  heard  pronounced  quaveringly — in  a  voice 
that  seemed  to  touch  yet  another  deep  chord  of 
memory — ^his  own  name:  ** Gaston!'' 

Monsieur  Gaillard's  nerves  were  tense.  He 
had  had  his  fill  of  affronting  surprises  and 
mysteries.  On  hearing  his  name  spoken  so 
familiarly,  in  a  voice  vaguely  recognized,  he 
sighed  with  relief.  Confidently  expecting  that 
all    the    mysteries    and    surprises    immediately 

83 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

would  be  explained  and  accounted  for,  he 
turned  sharply — to  behold,  standing  in  the  door- 
way of  the  salon,  a  lady  upon  whom  he  never 
consciously  had  laid  eyes!  Algebraic  concepts 
must  be  invoked  to  satisfy  the  situation.  It  was 
to  the  fifth  dimension  that  his  bemazement  was 
raised. 

At  least  this  unknown  lady  was  in  harmony 
with  her  environment — strikingly  so  in  the 
matter  of  the  broad  and  massive  chairs.  Her 
size — ^her  width,  to  be  precise — was  prodigious. 
Exceptional  though  they  were  in  breadth  and  in 
strength,  the  chairs  had  their  work  cut  out  for 
them.  Her  color-scheme  was  even  more  pro- 
nounced than  was  that  of  the  apartment.  In 
the  case  of  the  apartment,  as  has  been  stated, 
it  was  as  though  an  ill-made  rainbow  had  ex- 
ploded. In  the  case  of  the  lady  it  was  as  though 
two  ill-made  rainbows — shattered  by  a  collision 
with  the  irresistible  abundance  of  her  person — 
had  overflowed  her  with  incongruous  hues.  Her 
prismatic  effect  was  not  confined  to  her  gar- 
ments. The  wide  area  of  her  billowy  smiling 
face,  and  the  luxuriant  circumferences  of  her 
bared  arms,  were  enriched  warmly  with  the 
first  color  of  the  spectrum.  The  third  color, 
somewhat  dulled,  coyly  had  taken  refuge  in  her 
hair.     Her    effect    upon    Monsieur    Gaillard — 

84 


POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

like   that  of  the  crewel-work  tStieres — was  to 
incline  him  at  once  to  shudder  and  to  laugh. 

Her  smile  faded  as  she  perceived  his  look  of 
utter  blankness.  There  was  a  note  of  pain 
in  her  voice  as  she  asked:  *'Dost  thou  not 
know  me,  Gaston?    Am  I  then  so  changed?'' 

Disposed  as  he  was  to  turn  to  ancient  mem- 
ories, that  sorrow- touched  familiar  voice  of  a 
sudden  conjured  up  before  him  a  vision  of  a  fat 
little  girl  whose  yellow  hair  he  was  pulling — 
and  so  put  the  key  to  the  puzzle  in  his  hand. 
In  place  of  the  blank  look  on  his  face  came  a  look 
of  recognition — not  joyful  recognition,  precisely; 
and  in  a  tone  of  surprise — not  joyful  surprise, 
precisely — he  exclaimed:  *' Surely,  it  is  Madame 
Beaumelle!" 

''Call  me  not  by  that  hated  name,  on  which 
my  young  life  was  shipwrecked!  To  thee, 
Gaston,  as  always,  I  am  'little  AngeleM'' 

Monsieur  Gaillard,  who  was  not  destitute  of  a 
sense  of  humor,  politely  concealed  by  stroking 
his  mustache  the  impolite  action  of  the  muscles 
of  his  mouth:  induced  by  the  reflection  that, 
dimensionally,  the  adjective  was  inappropriate; 
and  that  the  noun — as  indicating  resemblance 
to  even  the  Flemish  type  of  angel — distinctly 
was  misapplied.  But  the  essence  of  the  appeal — 
irrespective  of  its  verbal  inaccuracies — caused 

85 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

him  a  certain  embarrassment.  Being  of  a  cau- 
tious habit,  and  in  possession  of  a  considerable 
store  of  worldly  wisdom,  a  suitable  method  of 
meeting  this  suddenly  presented  sight  draft  on 
his  sympathies — even  on  his  affections — did  not 
instantly  frame  itself  in  his  mind. 

Breaking  the  silence,  that  dragged  a  little, 
the  lady  herself  took  the  word.  *'Thou  art  not 
angry  with  me,  Gaston,''  she  asked  in  a  tone  of 
coquettish  plaintiveness,  ''for  having  contrived 
my  little  comedy  to  bring  thee  here  ?  It  was  an 
inspiration,  my  dog-stealing!  At  first  I  thought 
— ah,  for  long  I  have  thought — of  writing  a  letter 
asking  thee  to  come  to  me.  But  I  knew  too 
well  that  a  letter  would  bring — ^if  it  brought  me 
anything — only  a  letter  in  reply.  In  search  of 
thy  dog,  to  whom  thy  heart  is  tender,  I  felt 
assured  that  thou  wouldst  come  thyself.  I  do 
not  blame  thee  for  holding  me  as  less  than  thy 
dog,  Gaston.  Thou  hast  much  to  forgive  me. 
I  was  cruel,  and  I  was  false!'' 

Madame  Beaumelle  made  these  self-deprecia- 
tory statements  mournfully.  Having  made 
them,  she  paused  and  sighed.  Her  sigh  dis- 
tinctly was  interrogative — implying  that  the 
opportunity  to  deliver  a  monologue  was  not  the 
first  thing  that  she  desired. 

Indeed,    common    courtesy    demanded    that 

86 


POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

Monsieur  Gaillard  should  not  remain  indefinitely 
silent.  Nor  did  he.  Being  still  engaged  in 
reflections  prompted  by  caution  and  worldly 
wisdom,  his  reply  was  a  trifle  slow  in  coming; 
but  it  was  marked  by  acumen  when  it  came. 

'* Madame 's  little  comedy  is  delightful/*  he 
said,  speaking  in  a  tone  of  cheerfulness  that  was 
in  pronounced  contrast  with  Madame  Beau- 
melle's  tone  of  sorrow.  *'I  enjoy  to  the  utmost 
her  amusing  contrivings — so  ingenious — so  spiri- 
tuelle!  But,  surely,  Madame  will  not  transform 
her  comedy  into  a  tragedy  by  truly  stealing  my 
good  Pierrot?  She  will  give  him  back  to  me? 
Indeed,  I  am  sure  of  it.  Eliso — I  remember  her 
name,  now.  She  has  aged,  yet  I  was  sure  that 
I  knew  her — promised  me  as  much  when  she  met 
me  at  the  door.'' 

It  is  possible  that  Madame  Beaumelle  was 
not  wholly  satisfied  with  the  direction  that 
Monsieur  Gaillard  was  giving  to  the  conversa- 
tion. Conceivably,  she  would  have  been  better 
pleased  had  he  touched,  even  bitterly,  on  the 
self-condemnatory  reminiscent  section  of  her 
remarks.  His  compliments  upon  her  dog-steal- 
ing comedy  undoubtedly  were  made  with  a 
grace — ^but  he  had  used  them  as  a  base  for  a 
much  too  prompt  reversion  to  the  prosaic 
matter  of  the  stolen  dog.     However,  Madame 

87 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

Beaumelle  herself  was  not  without  a  certain 
skill  in  directing  conversation.  Again  she  gave 
matters  a  reminiscent  turn. 

**Be  not  afraid,  Gaston/'  she  said  sadly, 
**thou  shalt  have  back  thy  Pierrot.  I  have  no 
wish  to  make  my  comedy  a  tragedy.  For  me,  I 
have  had  enough  of  tragedy — in  the  stinging 
sorrows  of  my  own  poor  heart!  But  hast  thou 
no  care  to  know — before  I  return  him  to  thee — 
what  has  befallen  me  in  all  the  years  that  have 
passed  since,  by  my  own  act  of  folly,  the  em- 
bitterment  of  my  life  began?'' 

Assuredly,  any  other  phase  of  antiquarian 
research  would  have  been  more  agreeable  to 
Monsieur  Gaillard  than  that  which  Madame 
Beaumelle  proposed  to  him.  But  his  preferences 
in  the  matter  were  not  consulted.  Assuming  an 
affirmative  reply  to  her  question,  without  pause 
she  continued:  '*They  have  been  dreary  years, 
black  years,  Gaston.  My  soul  has  suffered  all 
agonies !  And  in  these  later  times  other  troubles 
have  come  upon  me — of  a  meaner  sort,  but 
bitingly  hard  to  bear.  Even  now  I  have  in 
hand  the  selling  of  Clerensac.  For  such  manag- 
ings  I  have  no  aptitude,  and  I  am  weary  of  seeing 
all  down  there  go  wrong.  It  will  sell  for  but  a 
half  of  its  value — since  much  must  be  spent 
upon  it  to  set  it  in  repair  again — but  for  enough 

88 


POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

to  permit  me  to  live  in  modest  comfort.  Ah, 
if  things  had  gone  differently!  Thy  vines  are 
the  boast  of  the  region,  Gaston!'* 

''Thanks.  Yes.  Quite  so.  They  really  are 
doing  very  well  indeed,'*  Monsieur  Gaillard  re- 
plied absently — ^wholly  missing  the  point  that 
Madame  Beaumelle  so  delicately  had  made  in 
her  just  compliment  upon  his  vinicultural  skill. 

In  point  of  fact,  the  announcement  that 
Clerensac  was  to  be  sold,  and  at  a  bargain,  com- 
pletely filled  his  mind.  At  last  the  way  was  open 
to  him  to  realize  his  dream  of  acquiring  that 
estate  by  purchase — without  encumbrances — 
and  of  enclosing  it  with  Loheac  in  the  ring-fence 
that  so  long  ago  had  been  planned.  Being  wholly 
engrossed  with  this  very  practical  matter,  it  is 
not  surprising  that  the  sentimental  innuendo 
conveyed  in  Madame  Beaumelle's  affirmation 
of  the  good  results  that  would  have  attended 
his  earlier  acquisition  of  the  estate — ^with  en- 
cumbrances— quite  escaped  his  notice.  What 
did  not  escape  his  notice,  however,  was  the 
business-like  appositeness  with  which  her  revival 
of  her  alleged  youthful  romance  precisely  syn- 
chronized with  a  partial  crisis — that  its  belated 
realization  would  quiet — in  her  financial  affairs. 

Inferring,  correctly,  from  his  tone  and  manner 
that  Monsieur  Gaillard  was  not  thinking  at  all 

89 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

about  his  vines;  and  inferring,  incorrectly,  the 
direction  that  his  thoughts  had  taken,  Madame 
Beaumelle  was  encouraged  thus  to  proceed: 

"And  thy  life,  also,  Gaston,  has  gone  ill! 
Not  in  material  things — it  is  a  matter  of  renown 
how  thou  hast  enriched  thyself — but  in  the  deep 
matters  of  the  soul.  All  that  is  known  to  me.  I 
have  kept  myself  informed.  Yes,  though  thou 
hast  not  been  conscious  of  it,  through  all  these 
weary  years  I  ever  have  hovered  over  thee!'' 
(Of  a  sudden  Monsieur  Gaillard  had  so  vivid  a 
mental  perception  of  Madame  Beaumelle  in 
that  abnormal  position,  and  of  his  personal  peril 
in  case  any  part  of  her  hovering  apparatus  went 
wrong,  that  again  his  mustache  was  covered 
with  his  hand.)  ''Thus  watching  thee,  I  have 
beheld — at  once  admiringly  and  grievingly — 
thy  lonely  life :  of  which  my  perfidy  and  thy  faith- 
fulness have  been  the  cause.  Thou  hast  been 
nobly  constant,  Gaston,  most  nobly  constant, 
to  one  who  little  has  deserved  such  loyal  love!'' 

''Don't  mention  it!"  was  Monsieur  Gaillard's 
undeniably  feeble  rejoinder  to  this  fervid  ut- 
terance. But  his  words,  if  inadequate,  were 
sincere.  He  was  conscious  that  the  sort  of 
loneliness  which  he  had  suffered  did  not  directly 
invite  compassion;  and  he  equally  was  conscious 
that  the  tribute  to  his  constancy  appreciably 

90 


POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

was  more  emphatic  than  his  exercise  of  that 
virtue  deserved.  Moreover,  the  lady's  reiterated 
self-reproaches  were  embarrassing:  inviting  him 
on  the  one  hand  to  a  displeasingly  rude  acqui- 
escence, and  on  the  other  to  a  dangerously  suave 
denial.  Really,  if  he  meant — and  he  did  mean — 
to  keep  the  situation  in  hand,  ''II  n'y  a  pas  de 
quoi''  was  quite  the  best  thing  that  he  could 
say. 

Madame  Beaumelle,  however,  seemingly  found 
his  reply  unsufificing.  Again  she  sighed.  But 
as  he  made  no  addition  to  it  she  continued: 
*'Yet,  truly,  I  myself  have  not  been  disloyal, 
Gaston;  at  least,  not  after  the  realization  of  my 
error — and  that  realization  came  cruelly  soon. 
In  thy  own  hand,  but  a  moment  ago,  thou 
hadst  the  little  picture  that  through  all  these 
years  I  have  cherished.  As  thou  seest,  I  guard 
it  sacredly:  between  the  image  that  I  brought 
back  when  I  made  my  pilgrimage — canst  thou 
guess,  Gaston,  what  I  prayed  for? — and  my 
Abelard,  who  for  years  was  the  comfort  of  my 
forsaken  heart.  He  was  adorable!  Even  my 
pug  has  not  usurped  his  place.  After  thee, 
Gaston — ^yes,  I  say  it  frankly — ^Abelard  was  the 
only  living  creature  whom  I  truly  and  un- 
alterably have  loved!'' 

It  is  improbable  that  Monsieur  Gaillard  ac- 

7  91 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

cepted  precisely  as  a  compliment  this  avowal  by 
Madame  Beaumelle  of  the  mixed  bestowals  of 
her  unalterable  affections;  and  it  is  certain  that 
his  comment  upon  her  disposition  of  them  was 
not  that  which  she  anticipated.  Modestly  ig- 
noring his  own  share  in  their  distribution,  he 
fixed  his  regards  admiringly  upon  the  deceased 
Abelard  and  said  with  a  warm  enthusiasm: 
''What  a  perfectly  superb  cat  he  must  have 
been!" 

Madame  Beaumelle's  red  face  became  ap- 
preciably redder.  Dead  cats  at  that  moment 
did  not  hold  the  leading  place  in  her  thoughts. 
That  Monsieur  Gaillard  should  deliver  his  tact- 
less eulogy  in  the  very  thick  of  the  crisis  that  she 
so  resolutely  had  precipitated  was  far  more  than 
a  discourtesy.     Her  broad  person  visibly  swelled ! 

''And  loving  that  magnificent  animal  as  she 
did/'  Monsieur  Gaillard  affably  continued, 
"Madame  cannot  but  sympathize  with  me  in 
my  love  for  my  brave  Pierrot.  Surely  she  will 
repent  of  her  stealings'' — his  tone  became  that 
of  kindly  raillery — "and  will  surrender  him 
without  forcing  me  to  call  upon  the  police  for 
aid?  Her  comedy,  as  I  have  assured  her,  has 
been  most  amusing.  But  now,  seriously,  I 
must  have  my  dog  again;  and  must  take  him,  and 
myself,   away — already   I   have   trespassed   too 

92 


POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

long  equally  upon  Madame's  good  nature  and 
her  time/'  Monsieur  Gaillard  spoke  these  words 
with  a  finality.  As  though  to  enforce  them, 
there  came  faintly,  muffled  by  intervening  doors, 
the  sound  of  complaining  barks.  '*Ah,  the 
faithful  beast!''  he  added.  ** Knowing  that  I  am 
here,  he  grows  impatient.  Hearken  to  his  cry 
for  me!  Madame  surely  will  yield  to  our  joint 
appeal!" 

On  the  ears  of  Madame  Beaumelle  neither  the 
barks  of  Pierrot  nor  the  words  of  his  master 
fell  gratefully.  Her  eyes,  deep-set  in  the  billows 
of  her  glowing  cheeks,  glittered  dangerously. 
For  a  moment  she  seemed  to  be  about  to  give 
vent  to  speech  in  accord  with  the  flashings  of 
her  eyes.  By  a  perceptible  effort  she  controlled 
herself;  and  when  she  did  speak  it  was  in  gentle 
and  even  playful  tones.  She  was  of  a  resolute 
nature,  this  lady;  and  she  had  a  sufficient  ac- 
quaintance with  the  art  of  warfare  to  know  that 
battles  sometimes  are  won  by  a  change  of  front. 

**It  is  the  same  with  thee  still,  Gaston,"  she 
said,  **thy  love  of  dogs.  How  well  I  recall  thy 
affection  for  thy  little  Froufrou!  Dost  thou 
remember  how  thou  wouldst  terrify  me  by  setting 
him  to  snapping  at  my  baby  calves?  Art  thou 
still  so  cruel?"  Again  Monsieur  Gaillard 's  hand 
stroked  his  mustache — as  the  thought  occurred 

93 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

to  him  that  were  he  to  resume  the  practice  of  that 
particular  form  of  cruelty  at  least  a  mastiff 
would  be  required! 

*'How  wickedly,  too,"  she  continued  in  a  tone 
that  was  less  playful  than  tender,  ''thou  wouldst 
pull  my  hair!  Truly,  I  almost  fear  to  be  near 
thee  even  now!''  By  way  of  emphasizing  her 
dread  of  such  dangerous  propinquity,  Madame 
Beaimielle  drew  her  chair  nearer  to  Monsieur 
Gaillard,  and  so  inclined  her  head  that  it  easily 
was  within  reach  of  his  hand.  It  was  a  compli- 
ment that  she  thus  paid  to  the  soundness  of  her 
own  physical  preservation.  Clearly,  there  was 
no  taint  of  commercialism  in  her  hair. 

''And  now,  at  once,  for  Pierrot!''  cried  Mon- 
sieur Gaillard,  with  a  decisiveness  in  which 
distinctly  was  perceptible  a  note  of  alarm. 

At  that  crisic  instant — as  a  delivering  angel 
from  heaven,  according  to  Monsieur  Gaillard's 
view  of  the  situation ;  as  a  marring  fiend  from  hell, 
according  to  the  view  that  Madame  Beaumelle 
took  of  it — the  door  opened  and  Pierrot  burst 
into  the  room  all  in  a  whirl  of  frisking  joy! 
(While  Cesarine  was  wrong  in  declaring  that  this 
sagacious  animal  was  in  league  with  the  powers 
of  evil,  she  had  reason  in  asserting  that  he  could 
open  all  doors  easily  and  even  could  turn  keys.) 

Madame  Beaumelle  snatched  back  her  head 

94 


POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

and  jerked  back  her  chair  as  though  she  had  been 
stung:  intuitively  conscious,  in  that  terrible 
moment,  that  the  arrival  of  Pierrot  upon  the 
field  was  for  her  what  for  the  Emperor  was  the 
coming  up  of  the  Prussians  at  Waterloo! 

It  speaks  well  for  Monsieur  Gaillard's  coolness, 
and  also  for  his  sense  of  opportunism,  that  he 
used  his  reinforcements — to  pursue  the  simile — 
with  the  genius  of  a  Wellington.  Rising,  he 
cried  sharply:  **Thou  forgetest  thy  manners, 
Pierrot!  Attention!  Salute!"  And  Pierrot — 
even  in  his  emotions  responding  to  the  call  of 
duty — ^not  only  rose  erect  and  saluted  Madame 
Beaumelle,  but  of  his  own  accord  went  on  to  his 
difficult  feat  of  standing  on  his  head  and  wagging 
gracefully  in  the  air  his  inverted  tail. 

*' Madame  perceives  for  herself  my  Pierrot's 
rare  intelligence,"  said  Monsieur  Gaillard  blandly ; 
**and  so  will  understand  why  I  so  cherish  him  in 
my  affections :  even  as  Madame  declares  that  she 
once  cherished  me,  and — later — ^Abelard.  But 
that  is  not  nearly  all.  He  can  perform  endless 
wonders,  my  Pierrot.  If  Madame  conveniently 
can  permit  me  the  use  of  her  umbrella,  she  shall 
see  his  proficiency  in  the  manual  of  arms.  I 
am  pained  to  trouble  her — but  I  have  neglected 
to  bring  with  me  my  cane." 

As  he  reverted  to  his  lack  of  that  offensive 

95 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

weapon — and  at  the  same  time  realized  that  he 
seemed  to  be  getting  on  quite  well  with  a  rapier — 
Monsietir  Gaillard  for  the  last  time  covered  his 
mustache  with  his  hand. 

The  effect  produced  upon  Madame  Beaumelle 
by  this  offensive  exhibition  of  Pierrot's  ac- 
complishments—in which  she  found  a  climax 
of  insulting  negation  to  her  hopes — was  identical 
with  the  effect  that  popularly  is  attributed  to  a 
display  of  the  Gorgon's  Head.  As  one  stimned, 
she  regarded  the  contraposed  Pierrot  with  a 
frozen  stare  I 

Monsieur  Gaillard 's  intentionally  rasping  re- 
quest for  an  umbrella — acting  as  act  the  noisome 
fumes  of  burning  feathers  held  imder  the  nose 
of  a  person  in  a  faint — revived  her  to  conscious- 
ness and  to  action.  Slowly  rising  from  her 
chair,  she  stood  erect — and  with  a  massive  arm 
outstretched  pointed  toward  the  door.  It  was 
the  commanding  attitude  of  an  incensed  Python- 
ess— a  Pythoness  much  contracted  vertically, 
but  compensatingly  expanded  on  lateral  lines — 
and  it  was  in  the  sibilant  tones  of  an  incensed 
python  that  she  uttered  the  commanding  words : 
''Va-ten!" 

A  politer  phrase  might  have  been  used  by 
Madame  Beaumelle,  but  none  other  that  would 
have  made  her  strong  meaning  quite  so  ener- 

96 


POODLE  OF  MONSIEUR  GAILLARD 

getically  clear.  **Get  out!''  is  an  adjuration — 
using  that  word  in  its  modem  colloquial  sense — 
that  leaves  positively  nothing  to  the  imagination 
of  the  adjured. 

Monsieur  Gaillard  had  no  quarrel  to  make 
with  the  peremptoriness  of  his  dismissal.  He 
was  more  than  ready  to  bring  the  interview — 
that,  like  the  t^tieres,  he  had  found  at  once 
amusing  and  painful — to  an  end.  Even  an 
absurd  discord  ceases  to  be  ludicrous  when  it  is 
too  pronoimced  or  too  prolonged. 

*' Since  Madame  so  pointedly  insists  that  I 
must  leave  her/'  he  said  with  a  suave  courtesy, 
'*I  have  only  to  yield  to  her  wishes — merely  for 
an  instant  pausing  to  point  out  to  her  that  my 
coming  to-day,  which  she  now  appears  to  regret, 
precisely  is  at  one  with  my  going  of  many  years 
ago :  both  being  wholly  of  her  own  will.  Having 
drawn  Madame 's  attention  to  this  not  unim- 
portant fact,  I  avail  myself  of  her  very  explicit 
permission  to  retire." 

As  he  thus  delivered  himself.  Monsieur  Gaillard 
bowed  with  an  elegance  over  his  hat  and  moved 
to  the  door.  Opening  the  door,  and  standing  on 
the  threshold  with  Pierrot  beside  him,  he  again 
bowed  with  an  elegance  over  his  hat.  **I  have 
the  honor,"  he  said,  respectfully,  *^to  beg  that 
Madame    will    accept    my    homages    and    my 

97 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

adieux'*;  and  in  a  sharper  tone  added:  *'Thy 
manners,  Pierrot!    Salute!" 

Standing  on  his  hind  legs  with  a  soldierly 
erectness,  facing  Madame  Beaumelle  with  a 
soldierly  exactitude — vastly  pleased  with  his 
own  cleverness,  and  all  unconscious  that  he  thus 
consummated  his  master's  series  of  ironic  atroci- 
ties— Pierrot  raised  briskly  to  his  forehead  his 
right  paw! 


THE 
RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 


»  »,  >  » 


•», 


»        »  »  J  » 


THE 
PECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

WHEN  Madame  Vic — ^widow  of  the  responsi- 
ble Monsieur  Vic,  late  a  baker  of  substance 
in  the  Rue  Bausset— described  herself  as  a  help- 
less dove  vainly  beating  against  the  bars  of  her 
cage,  it  is  of  a  certainty  that  she  used  figures  of 
speech  with  a  free  tongue.  One  who  is  a  widow, 
and  appreciably  above  forty,  and  a  Marseillaise, 
undoubtedly  may  claim  without  challenge  a 
resemblance  to  creatures  of  various  sorts  widely 
distributed  throughout  the  animal  kingdom: 
but  for  one  so  conditioned  to  claim  a  resemblance 
to  a  dove,  and  specifically  to  a  helpless  dove, 
is  to  put  a  strain  dangerously  close  to  the  break- 
ing-point upon  both  the  politeness  and  the 
imagination  of  even  the  Provengaux. 

As  to  her  alleged  beating  against  the  bars  of 
her  cage,  that  was  another  matter.  There  were 
facts  in  the  case  of  Madame  Vic  which  gave  a 
colorable  quantity  of  truth  to  her  despairing 
metaphor.      Moreover  —  and  this  made  them 

lOI 


FROM:;J;HE   SOUTH   OF    FRANCE 

harder  to  d^al  with — these  facts  were  legal 
facts:  constituting,  precisely,  the  substance  of 
the  late  Monsieur  Vic's  will. 

*'It  is  not.  Monsieur,''  Madame  Vic  declared 
warmly — addressing  herself  to  Monsieur  Peloux, 
as  that  respected  notary  carefully  refolded  the 
will  whereof  the  reading  had  been  as  a  discharge 
of  thunderbolts — *'that  I  desire  to  marry  again 
all  in  a  moment.  In  truth,  after  so  bitter  an 
experience  in  matrimony,  it  is  most  reasonable — 
so  far  from  again  taking  risks  of  evil — that  I 
should  seek  to  retire  myself  from  the  world 
altogether  and  become  a  nun." 

*'I  beg  of  Madame  that  she  will  not  become 
a  nun,"  interposed  Monsieur  Peloux  with  a 
polite  gallantry;  and  added,  with  a  gallantry 
more  subtle,  the  sententious  abstraction:  ''The 
convent  is  the  refuge  of  the  ugly  and  the  old." 

'Tt  is  not,  I  say,  that  I  desire  impetuously  to 
hurl  myself  into  another  marriage,"  Madame 
Vic  continued,  acknowledging  the  notary's  hand- 
some speech  with  an"  enchanting  smile;  ''it  is 
that  I  resent  having  put  upon  me  the  insolent 
command  that  I  am  not  to  marry  at  all.    That — " 

"Madame  is  not  wholly  accurate  in  her  state- 
ment of  facts,"  interrupted  Monsieur  Peloux, 
speaking  with  a  notarial  precision.  "Under  the 
terms  of  Monsieur  Vic's  will  Madame  is  free — 

I02 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

as  free  as  air — to  marry  instantly  the  whole 
world/'  Monsieur  Peloux  waved  his  hand  briskly 
and  expansively :  in  a  manner  at  once  indicative 
of  great  rapidity  of  action,  of  atmospheric  free- 
dom, and  of  the  terrestrial  extent  of  Madame 
Vic's  matrimonial  possibilities. 

**And  having  instantly  with  the  freedom  of  air 
married  the  whole  world — what?*'  Madame  Vic 
asked  with  a  poignant  bitterness;  and  with  a  like 
poignant  bitterness  herself  answered:  **I  receive 
again  precisely  the  dot  that  I  brought  to  this 
bowelless  man  of  stone  when  in  my  yoimg  in- 
nocence I  so  disastrously  wedded  him!  Pre- 
cisely that!  Not  one  sou  more!  All  the  fruit 
of  my  ceaseless  toils  and  of  my  vigilant  economies 
is  wasted.  All  that  justly  is  mine  is  snatched 
away  from  me.     I  am  left  to  starve!'* 

**  Pardon — ^but  Madame  evidently  has  not 
grasped  with  exactness  the  conditions  which  the 
will  imposes  upon  her.  They  are  both  curious 
and  imusual,  these  conditions.  Moreover,  being 
set  forth  in  the  language  of  the  law,  she  rea- 
sonably may  find  them  obscure.  With  Madame's 
permission,  I  will  present  them  to  her  clearly, 
infplain  words." 

*' Monsieur  is  amiable,"  Madame  Vic  replied 
with  a  cold  civility.  **0f  a  truth,  this  will — 
which  Monsieur  says  is  curious  and  unusual, 

103 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

and  which  I  say  is  monstrous  and  abominable — 
is  not  a  hidden  mystery.  Even  my  poor  wits, 
which  Monsieur  no  doubt  rightly  estimates  as 
of  a  childish  weakness" — Monsieur  Peloux  here 
made  gestures  expressive  of  deprecation — ''can 
make  meaning,  but  not  reason,  of  it.  Con- 
ceivably however,  for  the  convincing  of  Monsieur 
that  all  is  made  clear  to  my  meager  understand- 
ing, it  may  be  well  that  he  puts  these  despicable 
orderings  and  commandings  into,  as  he  phrases 
it,  plain  words." 

Having  thus  spoken,  Madame  Vic  ostenta- 
tiously disposed  herself  in  an  attitude  of  atten- 
tion, and  emphasized  her  attentiveness  by  holding 
her  head  a  little  on  one  side.  With  her  head  that 
way,  even  in  her  anger,  Madame  Vic  distinctly 
was  pleasing  to  contemplate.  She  was  tall 
and  well  rounded  and  superbly  blond,  this 
justly  disconsolate  widow :  of  a  type — the  blend- 
ing of  the  fair  Phokaian  and  the  massive  Roman 
strains — that  is  uncommon  in  Marseille,  and 
therefore  is  the  more  appreciated  in  the  rare 
instances  when  it  arrives.  Moreover,  she  still 
was  on  the  safe  side  of  the  catastrophe  that  was 
indicated  as  imminent  by  the  luxuriant  fullness  of 
her  bloom.  Very  soon,  beyond  question,  the 
fall  of  the  petals  would  begin:  but  for  the  mo- 
ments remaining  before  that  disaster  overtook 

104 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

her  she  had  the  alluring  charm — to  pursue  the 
botanical  simile — of  a  lavishly  exuberant  rose. 

In  the  interest  of  truth  farther  to  pursue  the 
simile,  there  were  thorns  about  Madame  Vic 
which  equally  had  reached  a  very  full  develop- 
ment. As  Monsieur  Peloux  knew — ^in  common 
with  the  world  in  general — this  interesting  widow 
was  endowed  with  an  exceptionally  high  temper 
and  with  a  most  vigorously  stubborn  will.  The 
fact  also  was  notorious  that  she  had  exhibited 
these  characteristics  freely  in  a  consistent  ejffort 
to  lead  the  late  Monsieur  Vic  a  dog's  life  of  it; 
and  had  succeeded  only  partially  in  her  strenuous 
undertaking  because  that  resolute  baker  had  been 
endowed  with  a  still  higher  temper  and  a  still 
more  stubborn  will  of  his  own. 

Monsieur  Peloux  was  of  an  age,  and  also  of  a 
gravity,  but  within  his  body  of  a  notary  still 
was  his  heart  of  a  man.  Forgetting  about  the 
thorns — which  Monsieur  Vic  most  distinctly  had 
remembered  when  framing  his  pimitive  testa- 
ment— Monsieur  Peloux  could  not  but  feel  as 
he  regarded  Madame  Vic,  and  especially  as  he 
regarded  her  blond  head  so  felicitously  at  odds 
with  the  perpendicular,  that  a  rank  injustice  had 
been  put  upon  her  imder  cover  of  the  law.  Obvi- 
ously, to  place  any  restrictions  upon  the  prompt 
remarriage  of  such  a  widow — so  nicely  balanced 

105 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

upon  the  very  apex  of  maturity;  and  so  soon, 
toppling  thence,  to  begin  her  sad  progress  down 
the  decKvity  of  age — ^was  to  do  her  a  stijDstantial 
wrong. 

However,  as  Monsieur  Peloux  reflected  with 
satisfaction,  it  was  no  affair  of  his.  He  was  the 
exponent  of  the  laws,  not  the  maker  of  them; 
and  in  the  present  instance — since  the  will  was 
not  of  his  drawing — he  was  not  even  colorably 
responsible  for  the  injury  that  their  too  harsh 
application  would  set  in  train.  It  was  therefore 
as  the  law's  exponent — speaking  in  the  calm  voice 
of  the  notary,  but  with  an  inflection  now  and 
then  which  betrayed  his  heart  of  a  man — that  he 
set  forth  freed  from  legal  verbiage  the  meaning  of 
Monsieur  Vic's  malevolent  testament  in  these 
terms: 

'^So  long  as  Madame  remains  unmarried  out 
of  loving  regard  for  the  memory  of  her  late 
husband'' — as  this  phrase  was  uttered,  and  sub- 
sequently repeated,  Madame  Vic  disturbed  the 
pleasing  poise  of  her  head  by  tossing  it  angrily — 
**the  whole  of  the  property  possessed  by  her  late 
husband  remains  absolutely  her  own.  To  her 
belong  without  restriction  the  bakery  and  the 
business  of  the  bakery;  the  moneys  invested  in 
securities;  the  three  considerable  properties  here 
in  Marseille;  the  pleasing  bastide  on  the  hillside 

1 06 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

above  St.-Barthelemy;  the  vineyard  at  Cassis. 
In  a  word,  Madame  is  the  possessor  of  a  fortune 
that  will  make  her  very  much  more  than  com- 
fortable to  the  end  of  her  days/'  At  this  point 
the  notary  paused. 

''Monsieur  will  have  the  goodness  to  continue. 
If  my  poor  intellect  is  not  at  fault  there  remain 
other  conditions  even  more  odiously  insulting 
than  the  one  which  Monsieur  has  stated.  That 
one  is  bad  enough.  It  is  in  a  convent,  as  Mon- 
sieur will  observe,  that  I  am  to  enjoy  this  fine 
forttme;  most  of  which  is  of  my  own  making — 
the  fruit,  as  I  have  said,  of  my  commendable 
toils  and  of  my  not  less  commendable  economies 
— and  all  of  which,  without  any  conditions  what- 
ever, justly  should  be  mine.'' 

**To  my  regret,"  said  Monsieur  Peloux  with 
feeling,  ''Madame's  late  husband,  in  point  of 
fact,  has  seen  fit  to  impose  other  conditions  which 
do  materially  restrict  her  freedom  of  action  in  the 
enjoyment  of  her  inheritance. ' '  Monsieur  Peloux, 
his  heart  of  a  man  asserting  itself,  heaved  a  sym- 
pathetic sigh. 

''Stated  in  the  fewest  words,"  he  continued, 
"the  farther  provisions  of  Monsieur  Vic's  will 
are  to  this  effect:  If  Madame,  out  of  loving 
reverence  for  the  memory  of  her  late  husband, 
remains  unmarried  for  the  term  of  five  years  she 

8  107 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

still  shall  possess,  should  she  then  remarry,  three- 
fourths  of  the  entire  estate.  Should  she  marry 
at  the  end  of  three  years,  one-half  of  the  estate 
still  will  be  hers;  and  should  she  remarry  at  the 
end  of  one  year,  one-quarter.  But  should  she 
marry  at  any  time  within  the  year  immediately 
following  her  late  beloved  husband's  decease, 
thereby  bringing  a  scandal  upon  his  memory 
and  a  disgrace  upon —  It  is  needless  to  pain 
Madame  by  repeating  the  precise  wording.  In 
its  essence,  the  meaning  is  that  should  Madame 
remarry  within  a  less  period  than  one  year  she 
receives  again  only  her  marriage  portion  and  the 
entire  estate  is  lost  to  her.  As  a  whole,  the  prop- 
erty goes  to  Monsieur  Alexis  Vic — " 

''That  unspeakable  person  no  longer  is  alive," 
interrupted  Madame  Vic  in  tones  of  satisfac- 
tion. ''His  quarrelings  with  Monsieur  Vic  were 
malignant;  growing  out  of  his  effrontery  in  op- 
posing, because  of  what  he  had  the  temerity  to 
declare  was  regard  for  his  cousin's  welfare. 
Monsieur  Vic's  marriage.  As  I  perceive  now, 
had  his  interested  slanderings  been  successful, 
I  should  have  been  spared  an  age  of  misery.  Not 
being  successful,  a  breaking  of  relations  with  him 
followed  of  necessity.  The  partnership  in  the 
bakery  was  dissolved  before  my  calamitous  wed- 
ding took  place.     Since  that  deplorable  event 

io8 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

occurred,  twenty  years  ago,  we  have  had  no  word 
with  him  or  with  his.  They  went  to  Aix — he  and 
his  camel  of  a  wife  and  his  ugly  little  boy — and 
set  up  there  a  contemptible  bakery  of  their  own. 
I  have  been  told  that  since  his  death  his  disgrace 
of  a  son  has  been  making  ducks  and  drakes'' — 
Madame  Vic's  phrase  was  faire  des  ricochets — 
*'of  their  pittance  of  a  property.  It  is  a  provi- 
dence that  his  odious  plannings  to  prevent  his 
cousin's  marriage,  and  so  to  secure  to  himself 
his  cousin's  fortune,  have  not  arrived.  Thinking 
that  matter  over  will  give  him  a  bad  quarter  of 
an  hour  in — in  wherever  he  deserves  to  be!" 

'*But  in  effect,"  said  Monsieur  Peloux,  ''his 
plans  have  arrived — that  is  to  say,  they  will 
arrive  should  Madame  make  effective,  by  re- 
marrying within  the  ensuing  year,  the  most 
drastic  and  the  most  regrettable  of  the  provisions 
of  Monsieur  Vic's  will.  She  will  observe,  farther, 
that  should  she  remarry  at  the  end  of  the  re- 
spective terms  of  one  year,  of  three  years,  and  of 
five  years,  the  bequests  of  three-quarters,  of 
one-half,  and  of  one-quarter  of  the  estate  to 
Monsieur  Alexis  Vic  become  operative." 

''But  Monsieur  does  not  understand.  As  I 
have  but  just  now  told  him,  that  animal — and 
equally  his  camel  of  a  wife — ^no  longer  remains 
alive." 

109 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

**But  Madame  does  not  understand.  The 
bequest — my  late  honored  colleague  Maitre 
Berteaud  was  not  one  to  make  a  mistake  so 
glaring — of  course  is  to  Monsieur  Alexis  Vic  and 
to  his  heirs.  The  property — ^proportionally,  or 
wholly,  or  not  at  all :  the  matter  will  be  governed 
by  Madame's  own  actions — ^will  revert  to,  or 
will  be  lost  to.  Monsieur  Alexis  Vic's  heirs.'' 

*'It  will  go  to  that  profligate  reptile  of  a  son?" 

''Precisely  to — I  accept  Madame's  terms  of 
characterization — that  profligate  reptile  of  a  son." 

Having  thus  completed  his  exposition  of  the 
law.  Monsieur  Peloux  remained  sympathetically 
silent.  Really,  in  the  circumstances,  there  was 
nothing  for  him  to  say. 

Through  some  painful  moments  Madame  Vic 
also  was  silent — in  bitterness  of  spirit  con- 
templating her  own  disastrously  narrow  shoes. 
She  could  see  no  way  to  widen  them:  and  when 
at  last  she  spoke  it  was  to  utter  the  words  which 
already  I  have  quoted — with  the  admission  that 
two-thirds  of  her  metaphor  put  a  strain  upon 
even  Provengal  imagination  and  politeness — 
to  the  effect  that  she  was  a  helpless  dove  beating 
against  the  bars  of  her  cage. 

That  opinions  should  be  divided  in  the  case  of 
Madame  Vic  was  reasonable :  there  was  much  to 

JIO 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

be  said  on  both  sides.  Equally  was  it  reasonable 
that  the  line  of  cleavage  should  follow  the  line 
of  sex ;  that  the  men  should  endorse  approvingly, 
and  that  the  women  hotly  should  fly  out  against, 
Monsieur  Vic's  Parthian  methods:  which  settled 
a  score  of  twenty  years'  standing  by  inflicting  a 
wound  that  rankled  before  it  killed.  In  Marseille 
— a  city  where  tongues  wag  easily — the  vigorous 
interchange  of  these  diverse  opinions  followed 
as  a  matter  of  course. 

'*It  is  an  abomination  in  the  sight  of  men  and 
angels  that  such  wickedness  should  be  per- 
mitted,'' declared  Madame  Gauthier,  a  clear- 
starcher  of  position,  addressing  herself  to  Mon-* 
sieur  Fromagin,  proprietor  of  the  flourishing 
Epicerie  Russe.  *'The  atrocity  of  a  will  like 
that  is  beyond  the  limits  of  a  dream.  Madame 
Vic  has  had  heaped  upon  her  a  whole  moimtain 
of  wrong!" 

Monsieur  Fromagin  chuckled.  ''What  the 
angels  may  think  about  that  matter,"  he  an- 
swered politely,  **  Madame  of  course  is  in  a 
better  position  than  I  am  to  know.  But  when 
it  comes  to  the  men,  and  especially" — here  his 
politeness  wavered — '*to  the  married  men,  the 
case  is  different.  Not  one  of  us  but  holds,  as 
I  do,  that  Monsieur  Vic  most  intelligently  has 
served  his  widow  a  fit  sauce  to  the  roast  that  has 

III 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

been  his  unhappy  portion  through  an  age  of 
miserable  years/'  Broadly  generalizing,  and 
throwing  his  politeness  to  the  winds  bodily, 
Monsieur  Promagin  added:  "Widows,  at  the 
best,  are  menaces  to  the  peace  of  society.  They 
become  a  shade  less  dangerous  when  fitted  with 
close  collars  and  held  by  short  chains/' 

'*  Madame  Vic  slaved  constantly  for  that 
wretched  old  man's  good  and  happiness — and 
every  one  of  the  years  of  misery  that  she 
gave  him  was  most  richly  deserved!"  Madame 
Gauthier  responded:  speaking  with  such  heat — 
because  of  Monsieur  Fromagin's  infamous  gen- 
eralizations in  the  matter  of  widows — that  she 
neglected  to  weigh,  and  still  less  to  balance,  her 
angry  words. 

Without  pausing  to  adjust  her  conflicting 
contentions — obviously  so  radically  opposed  to 
each  other  that  if  either  stood  the  other  must 
fall — she  continued:  ''It  is  known  throughout 
the  whole  imiverse  that  Monsieur  Vic  led  that 
martyred  woman  a  life  of  weepings;  that  his 
ceaseless  severities  embittered  every  moment 
of  her  anguished  days.  Monsieur  is  pleased  to 
asstime  to  express  the  opinions  of  the  married 
men  upon  this  legalized  iniquity.  His  disposi- 
tions and  his  experiences  being  known,  those 
opinions  are  what  I  should  expect  of  him.     For 

112 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

me,  I  speak  for  the  unfortunate  married  women; 
who  can  hope  to  find — from  the  trampHngs 
of  a  maHgnant  cruelty  to  which  they  are  sub- 
jected unremittingly — only  in  sorrowing  widow- 
hood a  somber  refuge  in  which  to  pass  the  bitter 
remnant  of  their  agonized  lives." 

Madame  Gauthier's  pointed  reference  to  the 
grocer's  dispositions  and  experiences  made  the 
matter  at  once  personal.  As  was  notorious, 
Monsieur  Fromagin's  relations  with  Madame 
Fromagin  were  of  a  sort  to*  make  gall  and  worm- 
wood seem  sweet  by  comparison.  When  other 
matters  of  talk  languished,  the  quarrelings  of 
this  couple  afforded  always  a  relishing  topic  of 
conversation  in  the  Rue  Bausset.  Madame 
Gauthier's  thrust,  therefore,  distinctly  was  a 
touch — but  in  making  it  she  had  opened  her 
guard.  Having  been  herself  thrice  married,  her 
observations  upon  widowhood  were  ill-advised. 

Discreetly  ignoring  her  touch,  Monsieur 
Fromagin  took  advantage  of  her  opening.  ''It 
is  curious  to  observe,''  he  said,  again  in  the 
tone  of  one  who  generalizes  broadly,  **how 
rigorously  those  trampled-upon  unfortimates 
confine  themselves — when  they  have  achieved 
it — to  the  sorrowing  widowhood  that  alone  affords 
them,  as  Madame  remarks  with  propriety,  a 
somber  refuge  for  the  bitter  remnant  of  their 

113 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

agonized  lives.  From  that  somber  refuge,  as 
Madame  conspicuously  is  in  a  position  to  affirm 
with  authority,  all  the  forces  of  nature  are  power- 
less to  drag  them  forth!  If  I  am  not  in  error, 
Monsieur  Vic's  will  precisely  safeguards  his  sor- 
rowing widow  in  that  somber  refuge  where  alone, 
by  Madame's  own  showing,  all  that  is  to  be 
hoped  for  of  restful  tranquillity  is  to  be  found. 
Also,  if  again  I  am  not  in  error,  Madame  Vic  has 
begun  to  take  her  own  just  precautions  to  secure 
herself  against  the  dangerous  host  of  suitors  who 
plan  to  lure  her  from  her  present  security 
into  fresh  matrimonial  pains.  It  is  no  doubt  as 
a  protector  against  their  aggressive  wooings  that 
the  handsome  young  contre-maitre  for  the 
bakery  has  been  hired.'' 

Monsieur  Fromagin  also  had  made  a  touch — 
and  had  lost  it  by  failing  to  come  instantly  to  a 
recover.  His  dragging  in  of  Madame  Vic's 
new  foreman  was  one  of  those  mistaken  after- 
thrusts  which  too  often  spoil  a  fine  assault  at 
arms.  It  gave  Madame  Gauthier  the  oppor- 
tunity to  slip  over  the  sharp  attack  upon  herself 
by  parrying  neatly  the  attack  upon  her  friend. 

**  Monsieur's  conceptions  of  the  conduct  of  a 
bakery  are  original,"  she  observed  reflectively. 
**No  doubt  he  would  have  Madame  Vic  do  her 
own  bakings  with  her  own  hands.     That  would 

114 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

be  excellent.  It  is  work  in  which  affluent 
women,  owners  of  bakeries,  habitually  engage!'' 
In  Madame  Gauthier's  voice  there  was  a  fine 
note  of  scorn. 

**I  would  have  her,  for  the  sake  of  that  pro- 
priety to  which  she  is  a  stranger,''  Monsieur 
Fromagin  replied  with  a  judicial  severity,  '*  em- 
ploy as  a  contre-maltre  a  man  of  a  suitable  ap- 
pearance and  of  a  suitable  age." 

''Monsieur  himself,  for  example?"  Madame 
Gauthier  asked  sweetly.  **It  is  an  arrangement 
that  would  be  ideal!  Many  times  the  thought 
has  occurred  to  me  that  Monsieur  would  be  ad- 
mirable as  the  almoner  of  a  convent.  For  him 
to  be  the  contre-maltre  in  Madame  Vic's  bakery 
would  be  better  still.  His  suitability  of  age  and 
of  appearance  equally  are  imimpeachable.  Scan- 
dals seeking  to  approach  that  bakery  would  draw 
back  appalled!" 

''Madame's  parcels  are  tied  and  at  her  ser- 
vice," Monsieur  Fromagin  responded  coldly — 
and  added  with  a  suave  venom:  ** Madame 's 
^championship  of  Madame  Vic's — shall  we  say? 
^eccentricities,  is  just.  In  what  remains  of 
Madame's  life,  even  though  that  remnant  is  not 
excessive,  events  may  continue  to  occur.  It  is 
reasonable  that  she  should  defend  well  what  so 
frequently  has  been  her  own  position — and  what 

IIS 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

not  impossibly  may  be  her  position  on  occasions 
yet  to  arrive.  For  me,"  Monsieur  Fromagin's 
tone  became  offensively  cordial,  ''my  good-will  is 
extended  always  to  Madame's  husbands;  and 
shall  continue  to  be  extended  to  them  always — as 
Madame,  bravely  emerging  from  her  successive 
somber  refuges  in  sorrowing  widowhood,  adds  to 
the  series  and  her  interesting  panorama  is  pro- 
longed." 

Madame  Gauthier,  carried  by  her  anger  be- 
yond all  bounds  of  polite  expression,  committed 
the  tactical  error  of  lapsing  into  gross  per- 
sonalities. ''At  least,"  she  exclaimed  in  a  voice 
shrill  and  quivering,  "there  has  not  been  in- 
cluded in  that  series  a  disgustingly  ugly  old  bald- 
headed  man  more  repulsive  than  all  the  beasts 
of  prey — and  that,  Monsieur,  every  bit  of  it,  is 
what  you  are!" 

Having  given  vent  to  this  ill-judged  outburst — 
whereof  the  reckless  violence  was  a  proclamation 
that  she  was  routed — Madame  Gauthier  snatched 
up  her  parcels  and  went  out  from  the  Epicerie 
Russe  with  the  lungingly  vibrant  motion  of  a 
furiously  enraged  hen. 

Monsieur  Fromagin,  left  alone  among  his 
epiceries,  chuckled  audibly.  The  outcome  of 
the  encounter  distinctly  was  refreshing  to  his 
self-respect.     In  his  debates  of  a  similar  char- 

ii6 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

acter  with  Madame  Fromagin  the  laurels  usually 
went  the  other  way. 

In  the  matter  of  Madame  Vic's  contre-maitre, 
the  consensus  of  opinion  in  the  Rue  Bausset 
was  in  line  with  the  views  expressed  sarcastically 
by  Monsieur  Fromagin.  Excepting  only  a  few 
kindly — or,  as  in  the  case  of  Madame  Gauthier, 
interested — apologists,  the  dwellers  in  that  thor- 
oughfare held  that  Madame  Vic  had  challenged 
sharply  the  convenances  by  hiring  to  direct  the 
practical  workings  of  her  bakery  a  foreman  at 
once  so  handsome  and  so  yoimg.  The  apologists 
made  the  point  that  the  very  youth  of  the  contre- 
maitre — he  was  no  more  than  eight-and-twenty 
— saved  the  situation ;  to  which  the  coimterpoint 
was  made  that  precisely  because  of  his  youth 
the  situation  was  so  compromised  as  virtually  to 
be  lost. 

The  affair  being  of  a  piquancy  that  would 
have  aroused  a  community  the  most  phlegmatic, 
the  community  directly  affected  by  it — among 
the  Marseillais  a  fight  between  sparrows  will 
cause  a  commotion — fairly  was  set  by  the  ears. 
As  the  passing  of  time  gave  opportunity  for  de- 
velopments which  indicated  the  approach  of  a 
crisis,  the  excitement  became  intensified.  By 
the  third  quarter  of  Madame  Vic's  first  year  of 

117 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

probation  the  whole  of  the  Rue  Bausset  was  in 
ferment.  Wagers  for  and  against  her  winning 
through  that  year  were  made  freely.  At  the 
Cercle  Fraternel  des  Fils  de  Phocee,  to  cover  all 
the  contingencies  of  Monsieur  Vic's  testament, 
a  tombola  was  arranged.  So  far  as  the  Rue 
Bausset  was  concerned,  a  mtmicipal  election, 
with  a  Red  mayor  in  candidacy,  could  not  have 
made  a  greater  stir. 

Had  the  outcome  of  the  matter  rested  solely 
with  Madame  Vic  —  her  intentions  admittedly 
being  obvious — ^popular  interest  would  have 
languished.  There  would  have  been  no  wagering. 
The  tombola  tickets  would  have  been  left  un- 
bought.  It  was  the  contre-maitre  who  held 
the  stage.  What  were  his  intentions  in  the 
premises  was  an  open  field  for  guesswork — and 
the  lively  zest  of  uncertainty  remained  until 
they  should  appear. 

'Tt  is  credible,  most  easily  credible,  that 
Madame  Vic  should  seek  to  ensnare  her  hand- 
some young  contre-maitre  into  a  marriage  of 
misery,"  declared  Monsieur  Brisson,  proprietor 
of  the  Pharmacie  Centrale,  as  he  prepared  for 
Madame  Chabassu  her  accustomed  soothing- 
potion — to  which  she  habitually  had  recourse 
(always  a  long  while  after  Monsieur  Chabassu 
had  perceived  that  it  was  urgently  necessary) 

ii8 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

when  her  nervous  irritability  fairly  had  passed 
endurable  bounds.  *'That  part  of  the  matter," 
Monsieur  Brisson  continued,  '* makes  itself. 
The  part  that  is  incredible  beyond  imagining  is 
that  the  contre-maitre  should  suffer  himself  to 
be  ensnared!*' 

Actually,  Madame  Chabassu  held  this  same 
opinion — but  being  naturally  remonstrant,  and 
most  remonstrant  when  suffering  an  access  of 
nerves,  she  promptly  scouted  it.  ''Since  Ma- 
dame Vic  is  neither  infirm  because  of  age,  nor 
conspicuously  displeasing  in  appearance,'*  she 
said  with  energy,  '*I  am  at  a  loss  to  perceive 
why  this  marriage — ^more,  that  is,  than  marriages 
in  general — should  be  fraught  with  misery. 
Equally  am  I  at  a  loss  to  perceive — since  the 
contre-maitre,  while  not  old,  has  arrived  at  years 
of  discretion — in  what  respect  the  possible 
bridegroom  is  to  be  regarded  as  ensnared.  Per- 
haps Monsieur  will  have  the  goodness  to  ex- 
plain?*' 

'*My  explanation  is  made  by  an  appeal  to 
Madame's  intelligence.  Is  happiness  likely  to 
arrive  when  an  old  woman  marries  a  very  young 
man?" 

**It  is  not  necessary  that  Monsieur  should 
put  a  strain  upon  my  intelligence  by  inviting 
me  to  consider  abstractions.    At  the  moment, 

119 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

we  are  speaking  of  Madame  Vic  and  of  her 
contre-maitre.  Madame  Vic,  if  Monsieur  will 
suffer  me  to  contradict  him  flatly,  is  not  an  old 
woman;  neither  is  her  contre-maitre  a  very  young 
man/' 

''I  would  draw  Madame's  attention  to  the 
fact  that  such  disparity  of  years  as  exists  between 
these  two  renders  their  marriage  not  less  repulsive 
than  absurd.  The  immutable  laws  of  society 
forbid  a  union  so  malevolently  grotesque/' 

''Monsieur's  knowledge  of  the  immutable 
laws  of  society,''  Madame  Chabassu  replied 
dryly,  '*no  doubt  is  in  excess  of  mine.  But  I 
would  point  out  to  him  that  when  a  man,  let  us 
say  of  Madame  Vic's  moderate  years,  marries  a 
somewhat  younger  woman,  let  us  say  of  the  age 
of  the  contre-maitre — the  two  having  in  prospect 
a  competence,  perhaps  affluence — I  have  yet  to 
learn  that  misery  is  prophesied  as  the  outcome 
of  the  marriage,  nor  is  it  usual  to  suggest  that 
the  young  woman  has  been  ensnared." 

Not  being  prepared  to  deal  offhand  with 
Madame  Chabassu's  cleverly  massed  sophisms, 
Monsieur  Brisson  passed  them  over  and  at- 
tacked her  argument  in  its  more  obviously  weak 
point.  **Did  the  competence  to  which  Madame 
refers  have  even  a  prospective  existence,  I  should 
not  have  the  temerity  to  oppose  her  reasonings. 

120 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

As  matters  actually  stand,  I  venture  to  recall  to 
her  memory  the  use  that  Love  habitually  makes 
of  the  window  when  Poverty  appears  at  the  door. 
Even  were  this  marriage  less  revolting  in  its 
essence,  that  substantial  objection  to  it  still 
would  remain." 

''Monsieur  forgets  that  even  her  husband's 
atrocious  will  cannot  deprive  Madame  Vic  of 
her  portion.  It  is  not  a  large  portion,  I  admit; 
but,  in  connection  with  what  the  contre-maitre 
himself  will  possess,  it  is  to  be  considered.  The 
contre-maitre,  as  is  well  known,  confidently 
asserts  that  he  is  about  to  inherit  a  fortune 
equal  to  the  fortune  which  Madame  Vic,  con- 
ceivably, may  forfeit  in  whole  or  in  part.'* 

''It  is  my  conviction,"  said  Monsieur  Brisson 
earnestly,  "that  the  contre-maitre  is  of  unsoimd 
mind.  Assuredly,  this  fortune  that  he  talks 
about  is  no  more  than  air.  As  for  Madame  Vic's 
portion,  it  is — as  Madame  herself  just  now  has 
stated — the  merest  trifle.  Briefly,  should  suc- 
cess attend  Madame  Vic's  brazen  wooing  of  this 
unfortunate  young  man — whose  mental  de- 
rangement makes  him  all  the  more  an  object  of 
pity — she  will  have  lured  him  to  a  dismal  life  of 
poverty  with  a  soon-to-be  decrepit  old  woman, 
who  has  a  fiend's  temper  and  the  stubbornness 
of  ten  thousand  mules.     Her  shameless  doings, 

121 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

Madame,    bring    a    black    scandal    upon    your 


sex." 


By  thus  in  a  manner  involving  Madame 
Chabassu  in  the  matter,  Monsieur  Brisson  went 
too  far.  He  invited  the  personal  rejoinder  that 
he  received. 

''It  is  evident  that  Monsieur's  conceptions  of 
Madame  Vic's  character  have  undergone  a  change. 
Little  birds  have  whispered  that  he  himself 
forced  proposals  of  marriage  upon  her  almost  on 
the  day  of  Monsieur  Vic's  funeral — certainly 
before  the  publication  of  Monsieur  Vic's  will. 
I  do  him  the  justice  to  believe  that  he  would  have 
been  less  precipitate  had  he  known  the  conditions 
which  the  will  imposed." 

In  referring  the  announcement  of  this  fact  to 
the  whisperings  of  little  birds,  Madame  Chabassu 
had  spoken  with  restraint.  Actually,  Madame 
Vic  herself  had  proclaimed  it,  and  in  terms  that 
had  sent  a  wave  of  laughter  throughout  the  whole 
length  of  the  Rue  Bausset. 

Denial  being  impossible.  Monsieur  Brisson 
had  open  to  him  only  the  course  that  he  took 
lamely.  ''My  compassionate  sorrow  for  that 
unhappy  old  woman,"  he  replied,  "I  admit  led 
me  into  an  indiscretion.  Mercifully,  I  escaped 
great  misfortune.  It  is  in  keeping  with  your 
known  character,   Madame,   that  you  refer  in 

122 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

terms  of  derision  to  an  act  that  was  prompted 
by  my  goodness  of  heart." 

**My  known  character  is  none  of  your  affair, 
Monsieur,"  Madame  Chabassu  answered  angrily. 
''It  is  not  a  pubUc  matter — as  are  your  merciless 
dealings  with  unhappy  old  women,  whom  you 
habitually  poison  remorselessly  by  scores!" 

Monsieur  Brisson  visibly  shuddered  and  paled. 
He  was  not  in  the  habit  of  poisoning  old  women 
remorselessly  by  scores;  but,  undoubtedly,  one 
old  woman  really  had  been  poisoned  by  a  mistake 
of  his  making — and  the  blight  that  had  fallen 
upon  the  Pharmacie  Centrale  as  the  result  of 
that  unfortunate  error  had  brought  him  into 
very  narrow  shoes.  It  was,  indeed,  in  the  hope 
of  mending  his  broken  fortunes  that  his  pre- 
cipitate proposal  to  Madame  Vic  had  been  made. 

Having  controlled  his  shudder,  but  remaining 
pale,  the  pharmacien  replied  to  Madame  Cha- 
bassu's  taunt  with  a  coarse  violence  which  put 
him  in  the  wrong.  ''Madame  will  do  well  to 
reserve  her  insults  for  her  unfortunate  husband. 
The  withering  abasements  which  she  puts  upon 
that  pitiful  man  are  known  to  the  whole  city — 
equally  to  his  and  to  her  own  disgrace.  Madame's 
presence  pollutes  my  respectable  premises.  She 
is  ordered,  I  say  ordered,  to  depart!" 

"It  is  with  pleasure  that  I  act  upon  Monsieur's 

9  123 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

polite  suggestion/'  Madame  Chabassu  answered 
affably.  ''No  doubt  Monsieur  contrives  his 
poisonings  more  agreeably  when  alone/'  And 
having  fired  this  parting  shot  she  retired  from 
the  pharmacy  in  good  order — conscious  that  in 
their  interchange  of  amenities  she  very  credit- 
ably had  held  her  own. 

Discreetly  ignoring  the  spirited  gossip  con- 
cerning her  indiscretion,  Madame  Vic  main- 
tained in  the  midst  of  all  the  outcry  that  there 
was  about  her  an  admirable  attitude  of  dignified 
calm.  Conceivably,  her  calmness  was  less  real 
than  assumed.  Certainly,  as  time  went  on,  even 
casual  observers  perceived  in  her  manner  an 
unaccustomed  suave  tenderness;  and  careful 
observers  farther  perceived  an  unaccustomed 
softness  in  her  exceptionally  fine — but  normally 
a  little  too  keen — blue  eyes. 

Monsieur  Peloux,  whose  observations  of  Ma- 
dame Vic  were  of  a  critical  nicety,  regarded 
these  phenomena  with  interest.  Being  of  a 
reticent  habit,  and  of  a  profession  that  dis- 
courages tattling,  he  made  no  audible  comment 
upon  them;  but  the  deductions  which  his  in- 
telligent mind  drew  from  such  exhibitions  of 
unusual,  and  even  unnatural,  tenderness  found 
expression  now  and  then  in  a  half -cynical  smile. 

124 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

The  point  toward  which  she  was  heading  he 
perceived  clearly.  What  would  happen  to  her 
when  she  got  there  he  found  less  clear.  But  cer- 
tainly, he  reasoned,  should  the  young  baker  be, 
as  the  old  baker  had  been,  a  man  of  domineering 
temperament  and  pig-headed  obstinacy,  then 
would  her  venture  land  Madame  Vic — who 
possessed  precisely  the  same  pleasing  charac- 
teristics— in  a  veritable  bed  of  thorns.  With  a 
fortune  in  hand,  she  would  have  a  young  husband 
to  some  extent  in  hand  also;  but  the  matter 
would  take  another  color  if  in  her  haste  to  gain 
her  young  husband  she  should  cast  her  fortune 
to  the  winds.  ■  Monsieur  Peloux's  smile  over  this 
combination  of  possibilities,  as  I  have  said,  was 
only  half  cynical.  There  seemed  to  him  to  be  a 
touch  of  pathos  in  Madame  Vic's  eagerness  to 
clutch  at  her  fleeting  chances  of  happiness — and 
all  for  love  to  hold  her  bakery,  and  the  remainder 
of  her  substantial  possessions,  well  lost! 

The  possible  saving  grace  in  the  situation — 
upon  which  Madame  Vic  relied  confidently, 
but  upon  which  the  professionally  distrustful 
notary  refused  to  place  any  reliance  whatever — 
was  the  positive  and  persistent  assertion  of  the 
contre-maitre  (touched  on  by  Madame  Chabassu 
in  the  course  of  her  animated  conversation  with 
the  pharmacien)  that  he  himself  was  about  to 

125 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

inherit  a  fortune  that  would  range  him  effectively 
in  the  world.  Beyond  this  broad  generalization 
he  refused  point-blank  to  go.  Even  Madame 
Vic — when  matters  had  got  to  a  pass  when  they 
could  talk  freely — could  not  wring  from  him  a 
more  definite  statement  than  that  the  fortune 
which  he  stood  to  win  certainly  would  equal  the 
fortune  which  she  stood  to  lose. 

The  vagueness  of  the  contre-maitre's  profes- 
sion, Monsieur  Peloux  argued,  made  it  ridiculous. 

The  sincerity  of  tone  and  manner  that  ac- 
companied it,  Madame  Vic  argued,  made  it  as 
credible  as  though  the  fortune  had  been  exhibited 
concrete  in  houses  and  lands. 

Actually,  this  intelligent  widow  was  of  a  thrifty 
habit  and  had  a  marked  aptitude  for  affairs. 
Temporarily,  without  doubt,  the  admirable 
normal  adjustment  of  her  reasoning  faculties 
was  disturbed  by  the  too  free  play  of  her  emo- 
tions. But,  in  spite  of  such  disturbance,  had 
she  not  been  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the  contre- 
maitre's  profession — had  she  for  one  moment 
believed  that  her  choice  lay  between  a  marriage 
sauced  with  poverty,  and  celibacy  sauced  with  a 
comfortable  amount  of  wealth — her  emotions 
instantly  would  have  been  ousted  by  her  rallying 
reason,  and  the  contre-maltre  would  have  been 
whistled   down   the   wind.     She  distinctly  did 

126 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

not  believe  that  those  displeasing  alternatives 
confronted  her.  On  the  contrary,  she  believed — 
even  allowing  for  the  loss  of  her  inheritance — 
that  love  and  riches  smilingly  approached  her 
hand  in  hand.  Undoubtedly,  too,  the  resolute 
reticence  of  the  contre-maitre  in  regard  to  the 
riches  counted  with  her  for  almost  as  much  as 
did  his  conspicuous  lack  of  reticence — ^he  was  a 
most  refreshingly  energetic  lover — in  regard  to 
the  love.  From  a  feminine  standpoint,  the  ele- 
ment of  mystery  gave  zest  to  her  venture  by 
casting  over  it  the  alluring  glamour  of  romance. 
Monsieur  Peloux  —  instinctively  distrusting 
mysteries  and  having  no  feeling  for  romance — 
would  have  none  of  all  this  airily  fanciful  rea- 
soning. In  the  privacy  of  his  own  mind  he  ad- 
mitted that  young  men  have  been  known  to  be 
infatuated — such  was  the  impolite  word  that  he 
used  in  his  thought — with  elderly  women;  and 
even,  after  marriage,  to  remain  infatuated  with 
their  elderly  wives.  But  he  argued  that  such 
cases  are  unusual;  and  he  farther,  and  more  to  the 
heart  of  the  matter,  argued  that  Madame  Vic's 
most  marked  characteristics  were  not  of  the  sort 
— when  revealed  by  intimate  acquaintance — to 
invite  infatuation:  still  less  to  encourage  even  a 
very  thoroughgoing  variety  of  that  form  of  tem- 
porary madness  to  endure.     He  decided,  there- 

127 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

fore,  that  the  contre-maitre  was  playing,  for  his 
own  purpose,  a  game  of  some  sort  that  in  the  end 
must  work  Madame  Vic  harm. 

Acting  on  this  conclusion,  and  speaking  in  the 
capacity  of  her  legal  adviser,  he  ventured  to 
urge  his  interesting  client  to  save  at  least  the 
beggarly  fourth  of  her  inheritance  by  rounding 
out  the  first  and  the  shortest  of  Monsieur  Vic's 
several  probationary  terms.  His  disinterested 
attempt  to  minister  to  Madame  Vic's  welfare 
was  so  ill  received  that  he  was  forced  to  abandon 
it:  with  the  reflection  that  when  a  woman  fairly 
grips  the  bit  between  her  teeth — and  notably 
when  the  woman,  being  no  longer  young,  takes 
to  bit-biting  in  love  matters — there  is  nothing 
left  but  to  drop  the  reins. 

A  month  less  than  the  full  year  sequent  to  the 
removal  of  Monsieur  Vic  from  his  respectable 
bakery  in  the  Rue  Bausset  to  his  respectable  lot 
in  the  Cemetery  of  Saint  Pierre,  Monsieur 
Polverel — favorably  and  widely  known  through- 
out the  Midi  in  commercial  circles — came  in  the 
course  of  his  commercial  travelings  to  Marseille. 
As  always,  he  stopped  at  the  Grand  Hotel  du 
Paradis.  To  his  surprise,  politely  concealed,  he 
found  Monsieur  and  Madame  Chabassu,  the 
host  and  hostess  of  that  well-conducted  estab- 

128 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

lishment,  actually  laughing  together:  precisely 
as  though  family  jangles  in  the  Grand  Hotel  du 
Paradis  were  quite  unknown.  In  justice  to  the 
worthy  Chabassu  the  fact  must  be  stated  that 
these  little  domestic  disamenities  never  were  of 
his  provoking.  It  was  Madame  Chabassu  who 
had  always  the  sharpened  tongue. 

*' There  is  news  to  tell  Monsieur  that  is  su- 
premely amusing/'  Chabassu  declared  delight- 
edly while  still  shaking  the  commercial  traveler's 
hand.  '*It  is  the  most  exquisite  pleasantry  that 
ever  has  been  known  in  the  Rue  Bausset.  Mon- 
sieur will  laugh  over  it  until  he  cries!'' 

''What  has  happened  is  droll  beyond  imagin- 
ing," struck  in  Madame  Chabassu,  in  haste  to 
be  first  to  tell  about  it.  ''The  marriage  between 
Madame  Vic  and  her  yoting  contre-maitre  has 
arrived!" 

"Good!"  replied  Monsieur  Polverel.  "It  is 
what  I  looked  for.  My  wager  was  well  taken. 
I  have  won  my  ten  francs.  Truly,  the  joke  is 
excellent.  And  the  contre-maitre?  He  marches 
well  in  the  leading-strings  held  by  his  elderly 
bride?" 

"It  is  the  contre-maitre  who  holds  the  lead- 
ing-strings," Chabassu  chuckled.  "How  the 
elderly  bride  marches  in  them  is  another  affair!" 

Monsieur  Polverel  looked  puzzled.     That  he 

129 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

should  look  puzzled  was  what  was  expected 
of  him.  Monsieur  and  Madame  Chabassu 
laughed. 

''Ah,  he  is  a  deep  one,  the  contre-maitre,'' 
said  Chabassu  with  conviction.  ''He  follows 
well  his  race !  That  sharp  young  man,  Monsieur, 
wisely,  made  his  sacrifices — that  nothing  might 
be  left  to  chance.  By  marrying  Madame  Vic 
himself,  and  within  the  year,  he  composed  the 
whole  matter  in  a  manner  the  most  secure.  The 
old  Vic  himself  must  be  grinning  by  the  hour 
over  it — the  old  Vic,  up  there  in  the  Cemetery  of 
Saint  Pierre !'' 

'.'That  the  contre-mattre  is — as  the  old  Vic 
was — a  brute  and  a  deceiver,  is  unquestionable," 
Madame  Chabassu  interposed.  "They  say  that 
when  Madame  Vic  made  her  outcry  at  the  Mairie 
he  was  as  the  old  Vic  alive  again!  He  took  her 
aside  and  whispered  to  her — what  cruelties  he 
uttered  were  not  heard,  but  they  may  be  imag- 
ined— and  she  went  pale  suddenly,  and  then  was 
silent  and  cowed.  Precisely  the  same  used  to 
happen  when  things  came  to  a  grave  issue  in  the 
old  Vic's  time.  When  the  old  Vic's  temper  was 
up  he  was  as  an  incarnate  fiend !  As  for  that  part 
of  the  matter,  it  is  outrageous.  But  it  is  to  be 
supposed" — Madame  Chabassu  here  pointedly 
addressed    Monsieur    Chabassu — "that    thou 

130 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

shouldst  find  such  deceivings  and  such  cruelties 
amusing — thou ! ' ' 

Monsieur  Polverel  opened  his  mouth  to  speak, 
but  opportunity  for  speech  was  not  given 
him. 

''My  angel,"  said  the  excellent  Chabassu, 
''it  is  not  I  who  would  smile  at  such  matters 
did  they  arrive  in  the  ordinary  way.  Deceivings 
are  not  to  my  liking;  and  as  to  harshness,  thou 
knowest  that  even  when  that  nimble  tongue  of 
thine  goes  too  quickly  I  am  patient  with  thee — 
being  sure  always  of  the  goodness  of  thy  good 
heart.'' 

"I  will  admit,'*  replied  Madame  Chabassu 
guardedly,  "that  thou  art  not  a  brute  always." 

"My  treasure,  thy  abounding  merits  so  en- 
dear thee  to  me  that  I  should  be  not  less  than  a 
wild  beast  were  I  other  with  thee  than  consider- 
ately tender.  Wert  thou,  as  Madame  Vic  is, 
overbearing  and  ill-tempered  thou  wouldst  find 
me  a  very  different  man!"  These  resolute  words 
were  spoken  by  the  brave  Chabassu  in  a  tone  of 
menace  that  caused  Madame  Chabassu  to  smile 
tolerantly;  and  that  compelled  Monsieur  Polverel 
— to  whom  the  customs  of  the  family  were  no 
secret — to  disguise  a  sudden  snicker  with  an 
equally  sudden  and  rather  awkward  cough. 

"But  in  this  case  of  Madame  Vic,"  Chabassu 

131 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

continued,  ''  it  is  altogether  another  affair.  Her 
old  first  husband,  assuredly,  put  severities  upon 
her,  but  that  she  invited .  them  by  provoking 
him  beyond  all  endurance  is  known  to  the  whole 
world.  Of  a  certainty,  her  young  second  hus- 
band— ^whom  she  has  taken  in  such  unseemly 
haste — ^is  but  helping  with  his  fresh  severities 
to  settle  what  Monsieur  Vic  looked  upon,  his 
will  proves  it,  as  an  unsettled  score.'' 

''My  good  Chabassu,"  urged  Monsieur  Pol- 
verel,  *'I  am  in  a  sea  of  bewilderments.  Tell 
me — 

'Tn  taking  any  husband,  in  haste  or  slowly,'* 
said  Madame  Chabassu,  going  off  at  a  tangent 
hotly,  '*the  common  decencies  of  life  required 
that  she  should  have  commanded  her  wedding 
breakfast  of  us — ^here  in  the  Grand  Hotel  du 
Paradis.  To  command  her  breakfast  of  Mon- 
sieur Bregaillon  was  to  affront  us  openly.  For 
years  we  have  bought  our  bread  from  the  Vic 
bakery.  We  buy  our  bread  from  the  Vic  bakery 
no  more!  I  will  not  deny  that  in  the  case  of  a 
woman  so  perfidious  her  old  husband  was  justi- 
fied in  setting  for  her  a  snare." 

Again  Monsieur  Polverel  opened  his  mouth — 
and  again  closed  it  as  Chabassu  took  the  word. 

'*As  ever,  thou  bright  star  of  my  affections, 
thou  hast  reason.     Into  the  snare  that  rightly, 

132 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

as  thou  sayest,  was  set  for  her,  she  walked  with 
her  eyes  open  and  of  her  own  free  will.  That 
bombshells  of  retribution — of  retribution  the 
most  complete  and  the  most  astonishing — ^in- 
stantly  should  explode  around  her  was  no  more 
than  she  deserved.  Her  conduct  in  the  matter  of 
the  breakfast  was  a  hideous  treachery.  It  is 
fitting  that  upon  a  woman  capable  of  that  treach- 
ery an  outraged  Heaven  should  descend  punish- 
ments the  blackest  and  the  most  severe.  What 
has  happened'* — Chabassu  spoke  with  the  air 
of  one  whose  advice  an  outraged  Heaven  had 
asked  and  taken  —  ''has  my  approval,  all  en- 
tire!" 

''M'sieu-Madame,''  Monsieur  Polverel  asked 
in  tones  of  earnest  entreaty,  *'I  beg  of  you  that 
this  enigma  may  be  made  clear  to  me  without 
more  words.  How  is  it  possible  that  the  contre- 
maitre  has  gained  anything  for  himself  by  marry- 
ing Madame  Vic?  How  is  it  possible  that  he 
holds  that  violent  woman  in  leading-strings? 
In  what  manner  can  he  be  settling  Monsieur 
Vic's  scores?  What  are  the  bombshells  of  ret- 
ribution which  have  exploded?  Why  should 
Monsieur  Vic  be  grinning  over  it  all  in  his 
grave?  In  a  word,  M'sieu-Madame,  what  is  the 
explanation  of  this  maze  of  mysteries  and 
contradictions — in  which  everything  is  as  un- 

133 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

reasonable  and  as  impossible  as  in  the  most 
defiantly  incredible  of  dreams?'* 

'*The  explanation,  Monsieur/'  Chabassu  an- 
swered, his  fine  stomach  shaking  with  the  laughter 
that  gurgled  in  his  voice,  ''is  of  a  simplicity. 
At  the  Mairie,  when  they  signed  upon  the 
register — not  one  moment  sooner:  the  revelation 
came  as  a  bolt  of  thunder — Madame  Vic  dis- 
covered that  in  spite  of  her  new  marriage  she 
still  carried  her  old  name!" 

The  expression  of  hopelessness  upon  Monsieur 
PolvereFs  face  became  almost  pathetic,  'Tn 
one  more  moment,  my  good  Chabassu,"  he  said 
in  a  tone  of  despondent  weariness,  ''I  shall  go 
entirely  mad!' 

''Surely  Monsieur  must  understand?" 

"I  understand  nothing.  It  is  impossible  of 
such  confusions  to  make  either  head  or  tail." 

Madame  Chabassu  came  to  Monsieur  Pol- 
verel's  rescue.  "It  was  the  young  Vic  whom 
Madame  Vic  married.  Absolutely,  the  young 
Vic  himself!    And  now  Monsieur  perceives?" 

"The  young  Vic?"  queried  Monsieur  Polverel. 
"How  then  could  it  be  the  contre-maitre? 
I  do  not  perceive  at  all!" 

"It  is  that,  Monsieur,"  put  in  Chabassu, 
"which  makes  the  matter  so  entirely  droll.  The 
two — the  young  Vic  and  the  contre-maitre — 

134 


0,V  o 


RECRUDESCENCE  OF  MADAME  VIC 

identically  are  one.  In  marrying  her  contre- 
maitre,  Madame  Vic  married  precisely  the  heir 
under  Monsieur  Vic's  will  to  whom  was  to  fall 
everything  should  she  marry  any  one  at  all 
within  the  year!'* 

Then,  at  last,  Monsieur  Polverel  saw  daylight. 
He  slapped  his  thigh  resoundingly  and  laughed 
as  only  a  commis-voyageur  can  laugh.  **That 
young  Vic,"  he  said  brokenly,  but  in  tones  of 
deep  conviction,  '*is  the  most  perfect  of  far- 
ceurs!" 

** Absolutely,  it  is  a  joke  of  the  most  refined 
completeness,"  Chabassu  responded.  ''Madame 
Vic,  again  being  married,  again  is  bridled  and 
bitted.  At  the  end  of  the  venture  she  finds 
herself,  in  the  essence  of  the  matter,  where  she 
was  at  the  start!" 

''And  she  remains — "  began  Monsieur  Pol- 
verel. 

"As  always,"  Chabassu  interrupted  with  a 
chuckle,  "she  remains — Madame  Vic!" 


MADAME  JOLICCEUR'S  CAT 


MADAME    JOLICCEUR'S    CAT 

BEING  somewhat  of  an  age,  and  a  widow  of 
dignity  —  the  late  Monsieur  Jolicoeur  had 
held  the  responsible  position  under  Government 
of  Ingenieur  des  Fonts  et  Chaussees — ^yet  being 
also  of  a  provocatively  fresh  plumpness,  and  a 
Marseillaise,  it  was  of  necessity  that  Madame 
Veuve  Jolicoeur,  on  being  left  lonely  in  the  world 
save  for  the  companionship  of  her  adored 
Shah  de  Perse,  should  entertain  expectations  of 
the  future  that  were  antipodal  and  antagonistic: 
on  the  one  hand,  of  an  austere  life  suitable  to  a 
widow  of  a  reasonable  mattirity  and  of  an  as- 
sured position;  on  the  other  hand,  of  a  life,  not 
austere,  suitable  to  a  widow  still  of  a  provoca- 
tively fresh  plumpness  and  by  birth  a  Marseillaise. 

Had  Madame  Jolicoeur  possessed  a  severe 
temperament  and  a  resolute  mind — possessions 
inherently  improbable,  in  view  of  her  birthplace 
— she  would  have  made  her  choice  between 
these  equally  possible  futures  with  a  promptness 
and  with  a  finality  that  would  have  left  nothing 

10  139 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

at  loose  ends.  So  endowed,  she  would  have 
emphasized  her  not  excessive  age  by  a  slightly 
excessive  gravity  of  dress  and  of  deportment; 
and  would  have  adorned  it,  and  her  dignified 
widowhood,  by  becoming  devote :  and  thereafter, 
clinging  with  a  modest  ostentation  only  to  her 
piety,  would  have  radiated,  as  time  made  its 
marches,  an  always  increasingly  exemplary  grace. 
But  as  Madame  Jolicoeur  did  not  possess  a 
temperament  that  even  bordered  on  severity, 
and  as  her  mind  was  of  a  sort  that  made  itself 
up  in  at  least  twenty  different  directions  in  a 
single  moment — as  she  was,  in  short,  an  entirely 
typical  and  therefore  an  entirely  delightful 
Provengale — the  situation  was  so  much  too 
much  for  her  that,  by  the  process  of  formulating 
a  great  variety  of  irreconcilable  conclusions,  she 
left  everything  at  loose  ends  by  not  making  any 
choice  at  all. 

In  effect,  she  simply  stood  attendant  upon 
what  the  future  had  in  store  for  her:  and  mean- 
while avowedly  cltmg  only,  in  default  of  piety, 
to  her  adored  Shah  de  Perse — to  whom  was 
given,  as  she  declared  in  disconsolate  negligence 
of  her  still  provocatively  fresh  plumpness,  all  of 
the  bestowable  affection  that  remained  in  the 
devastated  recesses  of  her  withered  heart. 

To  preclude  any  possibiHty  of  compromising 

140 


MADAME    JOLICCEUR'S    CAT 

misunderstanding,  it  is  but  just  to  Madame 
Jolicoeur  to  explain  at  once  that  the  personage 
thus  in  receipt  of  the  contingent  remainder 
of  her  blighted  affections — ^far  from  being,  as  his 
name  would  suggest,  an  Oriental  potentate 
temporarily  domiciled  in  Marseille  to  whom  she 
had  taken  something  more  than  a  passing  fancy 
— was  a  Persian  superb  black  cat;  and  a  cat  of 
such  rare  excellencies  of  character  and  of  acquire- 
ments as  fully  to  deserve  all  of  the  affection  that 
any  heart  of  the  right  sort — withered,  or  other- 
wise— ^was  disposed  to  bestow  upon  him. 

Cats  of  his  perfect  beauty,  of  his  perfect  grace, 
possibly  might  be  found,  Madame  Jolicoeur 
grudgingly  admitted,  in  the  Persian  royal  cat- 
teries; but  nowhere  else  in  the  Orient,  and  no- 
where at  all  in  the  Occident,  she  declared  with 
an  energetic  conviction,  possibly  could  there  be 
foimd  a  cat  who  even  approached  him  in  in- 
tellectual development,  in  wealth  of  interesting 
accomplishments,  and,  above  all,  in  natural 
sweetness  of  disposition — a  sweetness  so  marked 
that  even  under  extreme  provocation  he  never  had 
been  known  to  thrust  out  an  angry  paw.  This 
is  not  to  say  that  the  Shah  de  Perse  was  a 
characterless  cat,  a  lymphatic  nonentity.  On 
occasion — usually  in  connection  with  food  that 
was  distasteful  to  him — ^he  could  have  his  re- 

141 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

sentments;  but  they  were  manifested  always 
with  a  dignified  restraint.  His  nearest  approach 
to  ill-mannered  abruptness  was  to  bat  with  a 
contemptuous  paw  the  offending  morsel  from 
his  plate;  which  brusque  act  he  followed  by 
fixing  upon  the  bestower  of  unworthy  food  a 
coldly,  but  always  politely,  contemptuous  stare. 
Ordinarily,  however,  his  displeasure — in  the 
matter  of  unsuitable  food,  or  in  other  matters — 
was  exhibited  by  no  more  overt  action  than  his 
retirement  to  a  comer — he  had  his  choices  in 
comers,  governed  by  the  intensity  of  his  feelings 
— and  there  seating  himself  with  his  back  turned 
scornfully  to  an  offending  world.  Even  in  his 
kindliest  comer,  on  such  occasions,  the  ex- 
pression of  his  scornful  back  Vv^as  as  a  whole 
volume  of  winged  words! 

But  the  rare  little  cat  tantrums  of  the  Shah  de 
Perse — if  to  his  so  gentle  excesses  may  be  applied 
so  strong  a  term — ^were  but  as  sun-spots  on  the 
effulgence  of  his  otherwise  constant  amiability. 
His  regnant  desires,  by  which  his  worthy  little 
life  was  governed,  were  to  love  and  to  please. 
He  was  the  most  cuddlesome  cat,  Madame  Joli- 
coeur  unhesitatingly  asserted,  that  ever  had 
lived;  and  he  had  a  purr — softly  thunderous  and 
winningly  affectionate — that  was  in  keeping 
with  his  cuddlesome  ways.     When,  of  his  own 

142 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S   CAT 

volition,  he  would  jump  into  her  abundant  lap 
and  go  to  burrowing  with  his  little  soft  round 
head  beneath  her  soft  round  elbows,  the  while 
gurglingly  purring  forth  his  love  for  her,  Madame 
Jolicoeur,  quite  justifiably,  at  times  was  moved 
to  tears.  Equally  was  his  sweet  nature  ex- 
hibited in  his  always  eager  willingness  to  show 
off  his  little  train  of  cat  accomplishments.  He 
would  give  his  paw  with  a  courteous  grace  to 
any  lady  or  gentleman — he  drew  the  caste  line 
rigidly — who  asked  for  it.  For  his  mistress,  he 
would  spring  to  a  considerable  height  and 
clutch  with  his  two  soft  paws — ^never  by  any 
mistake  scratching — her  outstretched  wrist,  and 
so  would  remain  suspended  while  he  delicately 
nibbled  from  between  her  fingers  her  edible 
offering.  For  her,  he  would  make  an  almost 
painfully  real  pretense  of  being  a  dead  cat : 
extending  himself  upon  the  rug  with  an  exag- 
geratedly death-like  rigidity — and  so  remaining 
until  her  command  to  be  alive  again  brought  him 
briskly  to  rub  himself,  rising  on  his  hind  legs  and 
purring  mellowly,  against  her  comfortable  knees. 
All  of  these  interesting  tricks,  with  various 
others  that  may  be  passed  over,  he  would  per- 
form with  a  lively  zest  whenever  set  at  them  by 
a  mere  word  of  prompting ;  but  his  most  notable 
trick  was  a  game  in  which  he  engaged  with  his 

143 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

mistress  not  at  word  of  command,  but — such 
was  his  intelligence — simply  upon  her  setting  the 
signal  for  it.  The  signal  was  a  close-fitting  white 
cap — to  be  quite  frank,  a  night-cap — that  she 
tied  upon  her  head  when  it  was  desired  that  the 
game  should  be  played. 

It  was  of  the  game  that  Madame  Jolicoeur 
should  assume  her  cap  with  an  air  of  detachment 
and  aloofness:  as  though  no  such  entity  as  the 
Shah  de  Perse  existed,  and  with  an  insisted-upon 
disregard  of  the  fact  that  he  was  watching  her 
alertly  with  his  great  golden  eyes.  Equally 
was  it  of  the  game  that  the  Shah  de  Perse  should 
affect — save  for  his  alert  watching — a  like  dis- 
regard of  the  doings  of  Madame  Jolicoeur: 
usually  by  an  ostentatious  pretense  of  washing 
his  upraised  hind  leg,  or  by  a  like  pretense  of 
scrubbing  behind  his  ears.  These  conventions 
duly  having  been  observed,  Madame  Jolicoeur 
would  seat  herself  in  her  especial  easy-chair, 
above  the  relatively  high  back  of  which  her 
night-capped  head  a  little  rose.  Being  so  seated, 
always  with  the  air  of  aloofness  and  detachment, 
she  would  take  a  book  from  the  table  and  make 
a  show  of  becoming  absorbed  in  its  contents. 
Matters  being  thus  advanced,  the  Shah  de  Perse 
would  make  a  show  of  becoming  absorbed  in 
searchings    for    an    imaginary    mouse — but    so 

144 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S    CAT 

would  conduct  his  fictitious  quest  for  that  sup- 
posititious animal  as  eventually  to  achieve  for 
himself  a  strategic  position  close  behind  Madame 
Jolicoeur's  chair.  Then,  dramatically,  the  pleas- 
ing end  of  the  game  would  come :  as  the  Shah  de 
Perse — leaping  with  the  distinguishing  grace  alid 
lightness  of  his  Persian  race — would  flash  up- 
ward and  ''surprise'*  Madame  Jolicoeur  by 
crowning  her  white-capped  head  with  his  small 
black  person,  all  a -shake  with  tritmiphant 
purrs!  It  was  a  charming  little  comedy  —  and 
so  well  understood  by  the  Shah  de  Perse  that  he 
never  ventured  to  essay  it  imder  other,  and  more 
intimate,  conditions  of  night-cap  use;  even  as  he 
never  failed  to  engage  in  it  with  spirit  when  his 
white  lure  properly  was  set  for  him  above  the 
back  of  Madame  Jolicoeur's  chair.  It  was  as 
though  to  the  Shah  de  Perse  the  white  night-cap 
of  Madame  Jolicoeur,  displayed  in  accordance 
with  the  rules  of  the  game,  were  an  orifiamme: 
akin  to,  but  in  minor  points  differing  from,  the 
helmet  of  Navarre. 

Being  such  a  cat,  it  will  be  perceived  that 
Madame  Jolicoeur  had  reason  in  her  avowed  in- 
tention to  bestow  upon  him  all  of  the  bestowable 
affection  remnant  in  her  withered  heart's  devas- 
tated recesses;  and,  equally,  that  she  would  not 
be  wholly  desolate,  having  such  a  cat  to  comfort 

145 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

her,  while  standing  impartially  attendant  upon 
the  decrees  of  fate. 

To  assert  that  any  woman  not  conspicuously 
old  and  quite  conspicuously  of  a  fresh  plump- 
ness could  be  left  in  any  city  isolate,  save  for  a 
cat's  company,  while  the  fates  were  spinning  new 
threads  for  her,  would  be  to  put  a  severe  strain 
upon  credulity.  To  make  that  assertion  specifi- 
cally of  Madame  Jolicoeur,  and  specifically — of 
all  cities  in  the  world ! — of  Marseille,  would  be  to 
strain  credulity  fairly  to  the  breaking  point. 
On  the  other  hand,  to  assert  that  Madame 
Jolicoeur,  in  defense  of  her  isolation,  was  dis- 
posed to  plant  machine-guns  in  the  doorway  of 
her  dwelling — a  house  of  modest  elegance  on  the 
Pave  d'Amour,  at  the  crossing  of  the  Rue  Bausset 
— ^would  be  to  go  too  far.  Nor  indeed — aside 
from  the  fact  that  the  presence  of  such  engines 
of  destruction  would  not  have  been  tolerated 
by  the  other  residents  of  the  quietly  respectable 
Pave  d' Amour — was  Madame  Jolicoeur  herself, 
as  has  been  intimated,  temperamentally  inclined 
to  go  to  such  lengths  as  machine-guns  in  main- 
tenance of  her  somewhat  waveringly  desired 
privacy  in  a  merely  cat-enlivened  solitude. 

Between  these  widely  separated  extremes  of 
conjectural  possibility  lay  the  mediate  truth  of 

146 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S    CAT 

the  matter:  which  truth — thus  resembling  pre- 
cious gold  in  its  valueless  rock  matrix — lay 
embedded  in,  and  was  to  be  extracted  from,  the 
irresponsible  utterances  of  the  double  row  of 
loosely  hung  tongues,  always  at  hot  wagging, 
ranged  along  the  two  sides  of  the  Rue  Bausset. 

Madame  Jouval,  a  milliner  of  repute — de- 
livering herself  with  the  generosity  due  to  a  good 
customer  from  whom  an  order  for  a  trousseau 
was  a  not  imremote  possibility,  yet  with  the 
acumen  perfected  by  her  professional  experiences 
— summed  her  views  of  the  situation,  in  talk  with 
Madame  Vic,  proprietor  of  the  Vic  bakery,  in 
these  words:  ''It  is  of  the  convenances,  and 
equally  is  it  of  her  own  melancholy  necessities, 
that  this  poor  Madame  retires  for  a:  season  to 
sorrow  in  a  suitable  seclusion  in  the  company 
of  her  sympathetic  cat.  Only  in  such  retreat 
can  she  give  vent  fitly  to  her  desolating  grief. 
But  after  storm  comes  sunshine:  and  I  am  hap- 
pily assured  by  her  less  despairing  appearance, 
and  by  the  new  mourning  that  I  have  been  mak- 
ing for  her,  that  even  now,  from  the  bottomless 
depth  of  her  affliction,  she  looks  beyond  the 
storm.*' 

*'I  well  believe  it!''  snapped  Madame  Vic. 
*'That  the  appearance  of  Madame  Jolicceur  at 
any  time  has  been  despairing  is  a  matter  that 

147 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

has  escaped  my  notice.  As  to  the  mourning 
that  she  now  wears,  it  is  a  defiance  of  all  pro- 
priety. Why,  with  no  more  than  that  of  color 
in  her  frock'' — Madame  Vic  upheld  her  thumb 
and  finger  infinitesimally  separated — ''and  with 
a  mere  pin-point  of  a  flower  in  her  bonnet,  she 
would  be  fit  for  the  opera!'' 

Madame  Vic  spoke  with  a  caustic  bitterness 
that  had  its  roots.  Her  own  venture  in  second 
marriage  had  been  catastrophic — so  catastrophic 
that  her  neglected  bakery  had  gone  very  much 
to  the  bad.  Still  more  closely  to  the  point, 
Madame  Jolicoeur — incident  to  finding  entomo- 
logic  specimens  misplaced  in  her  breakfast- 
rolls — had  taken  the  leading  part  in  an  inter- 
change of  incivilities  with  the  bakery's  proprietor, 
and  had  withdrawn  from  it  her  custom. 

''And  even  were  her  mournings  not  a  flouting 
of  her  short  year  of  widowhood,"  continued 
Madame  Vic,  with  an  acrimony  that  abbreviated 
the  term  of  widowhood  most  unfairly — "the 
scores  of  eligible  suitors  who  openly  come 
streaming  to  her  door,  and  are  welcomed  there, 
are  as  trumpets  proclaiming  her  audacious  in- 
tentions and  her  indecorous  desires.  Even  Mon- 
sieur Brisson  is  in  that  outrageous  procession! 
Is  it  not  enough  that  she  should  entice  a  repul- 
sively bald-headed  notary  and  an  old  rake  of  a 

148 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S    CAT 

major  to  make  their  brazen  advances,  without 
suffering  this  anatomy  of  a  pharmacien  to  come 
treading  on  their  heels? — he  with  his  hands 
imbrued  in  the  life-blood  of  the  imhappy  old 
woman  whom  his  mismade  prescription  sent  in 
agony  to  the  tomb!  Pah!  I  have  no  patience 
with  her !  She  and  her  grief  and  her  seclusion  and 
her  sympathetic  cat,  indeed!  It  all  is  a  tragedy 
of  indiscretion — that  shapes  itself  as  a  revolting 
farce!" 

It  will  be  observed  that  Madame  Vic,  In  fram- 
ing her  bill  of  particulars,  practically  reduced  her 
alleged  scores  of  Madame  Jolicoeur's  suitors  to 
precisely  two — since  the  bad  third  was  handi- 
capped so  heavily  by  that  notorious  matter  of 
the  mismade  prescription  as  to  be  a  negligible 
quantity,  quite  out  of  the  race.  Indeed,  it  was 
only  the  preposterous  temerity  of  Monsieur 
Brisson — despairingly  clutching  at  any  chance 
to  retrieve  his  broken  fortimes — that  put  him 
in  the  running  at  all.  With  the  others,  in  such 
slighting  terms  referred  to  by  Madame  Vic — 
Monsieur  Peloux,  a  notary  of  standing,  and  the 
Major  Gontard,  of  the  Twenty-ninth  of  the  Line 
— the  case  was  different.     It  had  its  sides. 

'*That  this  worthy  lady  reasonably  may  desire 
again  to  wed,''  declared  Monsieur  Fromagin, 
actual   proprietor    of    the    Epicerie    Russe — an 

149 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

establishment  liberally  patronized  by  Madame 
Jolicoeur — *4s  as  true  as  that  when  she  goes  to 
make  her  choosings  between  these  estimable 
gentlemen  she  cannot  make  a  choice  that  is 
wrong/* 

Madame  Gauthier,  a  clear-starcher  of  position, 
to  whom  Monsieur  Fromagin  thus  addressed 
himself,  was  less  broadly  positive.  ''That  is  a 
matter  of  opinion,''  she  answered;  and  added: 
''To  go  no  farther  than  the  very  beginning. 
Monsieur  should  perceive  that  her  choice  has 
exactly  fifty  chances  in  the  hundred  of  going 
wrong :  lying,  as  it  does,  between  a  meager,  sallow- 
faced  creature  of  a  death-white  baldness,  and  a 
fine  big  pattern  of  a  man,  strong  and  ruddy,  with 
a  close-clipped  but  abundant  thatch  on  his  head, 
and  a  mustache  that  admittedly  is  superb!'' 

"Ah,  there  speaks  the  woman!"  said  Monsieur 
Fromagin,  with  a  patronizing  smile  distinctly 
irritating.  "Madame  will  recognize — if  she  will 
but  bring  herself  to  look  a  little  beyond  the  mere 
outside — that  what  I  have  advanced  is  not  a 
matter  of  opinion  but  of  fact.  Observe:  Here  is 
Monsieur  Peloux — to  whose  trifling  leanness  and 
aristocratic  baldness  the  thoughtful  give  no 
attention — easily  a  notary  in  the  very  first  rank. 
As  we  all  know,  his  services  are  sought  in  cases 
of  the  most  exigent  importance — " 

150 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S    CAT 

*'For  example/'  interpolated  Madame  Gau- 
thier,  '*the  case  of  the  insurance  solicitor,  in 
whose  coimtless  defraudings  my  own  brother  was 
a  suflFerer:  a  creature  of  a  vileness,  whose  deserts 
were  tinnumbered  ages  of  dungeons — and  who, 
thanks  to  the  chicaneries  of  Monsieur  Peloux, 
at  this  moment  walks  free  as  air!'* 

**It  is  of  the  professional  duty  of  advocates/' 
replied  Monsieur  Frpmagin,  sententiously,  ''to 
defend  their  clients;  on  the  successful  discharge 
of  that  duty — irrespective  of  minor  details — 
depends  their  fame.  Madame  neglects  the  fact 
that  Monsieur  Peloux,  by  his  masterly  conduct 
of  the  case  that  she  specifies,  won  for  himself 
from  his  legal  colleagues  an  immense  applause." 

*'The  more  shame  to  his  legal  colleagues!" 
commented  Madame  Gauthier  curtly. 

**But  leaving  that  affair  quite  aside,"  con- 
tinued Monsieur  Fromagin  airily,  but  with 
insistence,  ''here  is  this  notable  advocate  who 
reposes  his  important  homages  at  Madame 
Jolicoeur's  feet:  he  a  man  of  an  age  that  is 
suitable,  without  being  excessive;  who  has  in  the 
community  an  assured  position;  whose  more 
than  moderate  wealth  is  known.  I  insist,  there- 
fore, that  should  she  accept  his  homages  she 
would  do  well." 

"And  I  insist,"  declared  Madame  Gauthier 

151 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

stoutly,  **that  should  she  turn  her  back  upon  the 
Major  Gontard  she  would  do  most  ill!" 

** Madame  a  little  disregards  my  premises," 
Monsieur  Fromagin  spoke  in  a  tone  of  forbear- 
ance, ''and  therefore  a  little  argues — it  is  the 
privilege  of  her  sex — against  the  air.  Distinctly, 
I  do  not  exclude  from  Madame  Jolicoeur's  choice 
that  gallant  Major:  whose  rank — ^now  approach- 
ing him  to  the  command  of  a  regiment,  and  fairly 
equaling  the  position  at  the  bar  achieved  by 
Monsieur  Peloux — has  been  won,  grade  by  grade, 
by  deeds  of  valor  in  his  African  campaignings 
which  have  made  him  conspicuous  even  in  the 
army  that  stands  first  in  such  matters  of  all  the 
armies  of  the  world.  Moreover — although,  ad- 
mittedly, in  that  way  Monsieur  Peloux  makes  a 
better  showing — he  is  of  an  easy  affluence.  On 
the  Camargue  he  has  his  excellent  estate  in 
vines,  from  which  comes  a  revenue  more  than 
sufficing  to  satisfy  more  than  modest  wants. 
At  Les  Martigues  he  has  his  charming  coquette 
villa,  smothered  in  the  flowers  of  his  own  plant- 
ing, to  which  at  present  he  makes  his  agreeable 
escapes  from  his  military  duties;  and  in  which, 
when  his  retreat  is  taken,  he  will  pass  softly  his 
sunset  years.  With  these  substantial  points 
in  his  favor,  the  standing  of  the  Major  Gontard 
in  this  matter  practically  is  of  a  parity  with  the 

152 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S    CAT 

standing  of  Monsieur  Peloux.  Equally,  both 
are  worthy  of  Madame  Jolicoeur's  considera- 
tion: both  being  able  to  continue  her  in  the  life 
of  elegant  comfort  to  which  she  is  accustomed; 
and  both  being  on  a  social  plane — it  is  of  her  level 
accurately — to  which  the  widow  of  an  ingenieur 
des  ponts  et  chaussees  neither  steps  up  nor 
steps  down.  Having  now  made  clear,  I  trust, 
my  reasonings,  I  repeat  the  proposition  with 
which  Madame  took  issue:  When  Madame 
Jolicoeur  goes  to  make  her  choosings  between 
these  estimable  gentlemen  she  cannot  make  a 
choice  that  is  wrong/' 

''And  I  repeat,  Monsieur,''  said  Madame 
Gauthier,  lifting  her  basket  from  the  counter, 
''that  in  making  her  choosings  Madame  Jolicoeur 
either  goes  to  raise  herself  to  the  heights  of  a 
matured  happiness,  or  to  plimge  herself  into 
bald-headed  abysses  of  despair.  Yes,  Monsieur, 
that  far  apart  are  her  choosings!"  And  Madame 
Gauthier  added,  in  commimion  with  herself  as 
she  passed  to  the  street  with  her  basket:  "As 
for  me,  it  would  be  that  adorable  Major  by  a 
thousand  times!" 

As  was  of  reason,  since  hers  was  the  first  place 
in  the  matter,  Madame  Jolicoeur  herself  carried 
on  debatings — in  the  portion  of  her  heart  that 

153 


FROM   THE   SOUTH   OF   FRANCE 

had  escaped  complete  devastation — identical 
in  essence  with  the  debatings  of  her  case  which 
went  up  and  down  the  Rue  Bausset. 

Not  having  become  devote — ^in  the  year  and 
more  of  opportunity  open  to  her  for  a  turn  in 
that  direction — one  horn  of  her  original  dilemma 
had  been  eliminated,  so  to  say,  by  atrophy. 
Being  neglected,  it  had  withered:  with  the 
practical  result  that  out  of  her  very  indecisions 
had  come  a  decisive  choice.  But  to  her  new 
dilemma,  of  which  the  horns  were  the  Major 
and  the  Notary — in  the  privacy  of  her  secret 
thoughts  she  made  no  bones  of  admitting  that 
this  dilemma  confronted  her — the  atrophying 
process  was  not  applicable;  at  least,  not  until  it 
could  be  applied  with  a  sharp  finality.  Too  long 
dallied  with,  it  very  well  might  lead  to  the 
atrophy  of  both  of  them  in  dudgeon ;  and  thence 
onward,  conceivably,  to  her  being  left  to  cling 
only  to  the  Shah  de  Perse  for  all  the  remainder 
of  her  days. 

Therefore,  to  the  avoidance  of  that  too 
radical  conclusion,  Madame  Jolicoeur  engaged 
in  her  debatings  briskly:  offering  to  herself,  in 
effect,  the  balanced  arguments  advanced  by 
Monsieur  Fromagin  in  favor  equally  of  Monsieur 
Peloux  and  of  the  Major  Gontard;  taking  as  her 
own,  with  moderating  exceptions  and  emenda- 

154 


MADAME    JOLICCEUR'S    CAT 

tions,  the  views  of  Madame  Gauthier  as  to  the 
meagemess  and  paUid  baldness  of  the  one  and 
the  sturdiness  and  gallant  bearing  of  the  other; 
considering,  from  the  standpoint  of  her  own 
personal  knowledge  in  the  premises,  the  Notary's 
disposition  toward  a  secretive  reticence  that 
bordered  upon  severity,  in  contrast  with  the 
cordially  frank  and  debonair  temperament  of 
the  Major;  and,  at  the  back  of  all,  keeping  well 
in  mind  the  fundamental  truths  that  opportunity 
ever  is  evanescent  and  that  time  ever  is  on  the 
wing. 

As  the  result  of  her  debatings,  and  not  less  as 
the  result  of  experience  gained  in  her  earlier 
campaigning,  Madame  Jolicoeur  took  up  a 
strategic  position  nicely  calculated  to  inflame 
the  desire  for,  by  asstiming  the  uselessness  of, 
an  assault.  In  set  terms,  confirming  particu- 
larly her  earlier  and  more  general  avowal,  she 
declared  equally  to  the  Major  and  to  the  Notary 
that  absolutely  the  whole  of  her  bestowable  affec- 
tion— of  the  remnant  in  her  withered  heart  avail- 
able for  distribution  —  was  bestowed  upon  the 
Shah  de  Perse:  and  so,  with  an  alluring  non- 
chalance, left  them  to  draw  the  logical  conclu- 
sion that  their  strivings  to  win  that  desirable 
quantity  were  idle — since  a  definite  disposition 
of  it  already  had  been  made. 

11  155 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

The  reply  of  the  Major  Gontard  to  this  declara- 
tion was  in  keeping  with  his  known  amiability, 
but  also  was  in  keeping  with  his  military  habit 
of  command.  ** Assuredly/'  he  said,  ''Madame 
shall  continue  to  bestow,  within  reason,  her 
affections  upon  Monsieur  le  Shah ;  and  with  them 
that  brave  animal — he  is  a  cat  of  ten  thousand — 
shall  have  my  affections  as  well.  Already, 
knowing  my  feeling  for  him,  we  are  friends — 
as  Madame  shall  see  to  her  own  convincing.'* 
Addressing  himself  in  tones  of  kindly  persuasion 
to  the  Shah  de  Perse,  he  added:  ''Viens,  Mon- 
sieur!'*— whereupon  the  Shah  de  Perse  instantly 
jumped  himself  to  the  Major's  knee  and  broke 
forth,  in  response  to  a  savant  rubbing  of  his  soft 
little  jowls,  into  his  gurgling  purr.  *'Voila, 
Madame!"  continued  the  Major.  ''It  is  to  be 
perceived  that  we  have  our  good  understandings, 
the  Shah  de  Perse  and  I.  That  we  all  shall  live 
happily  together  tells  itself  without  words. 
But  observe" — of  a  sudden  the  voice  of  the  Major 
thrilled  with  a  deep  earnestness,  and  his  style  of 
address  changed  to  a  familiarity  that  only  the 
intensity  of  his  feeling  condoned — "I  am  re- 
solved that  to  me,  above  all,  shall  be  given  thy 
dear  affections.  Thou  shalt  give  me  the  perfect 
flower  of  them — of  that  fact  rest  thou  assured. 
In  thy  heart  I  am  to  be  the  very  first — even  as 

156 


<>•••.  9  »  », 


■*  a 
»  » 
»    « 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

this  flagrantly  untruthful  statement — *'and  with 
this  admirable  cat,  so  dear  to  Madame,  it  goes 
to  make  itself  that  we  speedily  become  endtiring 
friends. '* 

Curiously  enough — a  mere  coincidence,  of 
course — as  the  Notary  uttered  these  words  so 
sharply  at  points  with  veracity,  in  the  very 
moment  of  them,  the  Shah  de  Perse  stiffly  retired 
into  his  sulkiest  corner  and  turned  what  had  every 
appearance  of  being  a  scornful  back  upon  the 
world. 

Judiciously  ignoring  this  inopportunely  equivo- 
cal incident,  Monsieur  Peloux  reverted  to  the 
matter  in  chief  and  concluded  his  deliverance  in 
these  words:  *'I  well  understand,  I  repeat,  that 
Madame  for  the  moment  makes  a  comedy  of 
herself  and  of  her  cat  for  my  amusing.  But  I 
persuade  myself  that  her  droll  fancyings  will 
not  be  lasting,  and  that  she  will  be  serious  with 
me  in  the  end.  Until  then — and  then  most  of 
all — I  am  at  her  feet  humbly:  an  unworthy, 
but  a  very  earnest,  suppliant  for  her  good-will. 
Should  she  have  the  cruelty  to  refuse  my  supplica- 
tion, it  will  remain  with  me  to  die  in  an  unmerited 
despair!" 

Certainly,  this  was  an  appeal — of  a  sort. 
But  even  without  perceiving  the  mitigating 
subtlety   of   its   comminative   final   clause — so 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S   CAT 

skilfully  worded  as  to  leave  Monsieur  Peloux 
free  to  bring  off  his  threatened  unmeritedly 
despairing  death  quite  at  his  own  convenience 
— Madame  Jolicoeur  did  not  find  it  satisfying. 
In  contrast  with  the  Major  Gontard's  ringingly 
audacious  declarations  of  his  habits  in  dealing 
with  fortresses,  she  felt  that  it  lacked  force. 
And,  also — this,  of  cotu*se,  was  a  sheer  weakness 
— she  permitted  herself  to  be  influenced  appre- 
ciably by  the  indicated  preferences  of  the  Shah 
de  Perse:  who  had  jumped  to  the  knee  of  the 
Major  with  an  affectionate  alacrity;  and  who 
undeniably  had  turned  on  the  Notary — either 
by  chance  or  by  intention — a  back  of  scorn. 

As  the  general  outcome  of  these  several  de- 
velopments, Madame  Jolicoeur's  debatings  came 
to  have  in  them — if  I  so  may  state  the  trend  of  her 
mental  activities — ^fewer  bald  heads  and  more 
mustaches;  and  her  never  severely  set  piupose 
to  abide  in  a  loneliness  relieved  only  by  the 
Shah  de  Perse  was  abandoned  root  and  branch. 

While  Madame  Jolicoeur  continued  her  de- 
batings— ^which,  in  their  modified  form,  mani- 
festly were  approaching  her  to  conclusions — 
water  was  running  under  bridges  elsewhere. 

In  effect,  her  hesitancies  produced  a  period  of 
suspense  that  gave  opportimity  for,  and  by  the 

159 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

exasperating  delay  of  it  stimulated,  the  resolu- 
tion of  the  Notary's  dark  thoughts  into  darker 
deeds.  With  reason,  he  did  not  accept  at  its 
face  value  Madame  Jolicoeur's  declaration  touch- 
ing the  permanent  bestowal  of  her  remnant 
affections;  but  he  did  believe  that  there  was 
enough  in  it  to  make  the  Shah  de  Perse  a  delaying 
obstacle  to  his  own  acquisition  of  them.  When 
obstacles  got  in  this  gentleman's  way  it  was  his 
habit  to  kick  them  out  of  it — a  habit  that  had 
not  been  unduly  stimted  by  half  a  lifetime  of 
successful  practice  at  the  criminal  bar. 

Because  of  his  professional  relations  with 
them.  Monsieur  Peloux  had  an  extensive  ac- 
quaintance among  criminals  of  varying  shades  of 
intensity — at  times,  in  his  dubious  doings,  they 
could  be  useful  to  him — hidden  away  in  the 
shadowy  nooks  and  comers  of  the  city;  and  he 
also  had  his  emissaries  through  whom  they  could 
be  reached.  All  the  conditions  thus  standing 
attendant  upon  his  convenience,  it  was  a  facile 
matter  for  him  to  make  an  appointment  with  one 
of  these  disreputables  at  a  cabaret  of  bad  record 
in  the  Quartier  de  la  Tourette:  a  region — 
bordering  upon  the  north  side  of  the  Vieux  Port 
— that  is  at  once  the  oldest  and  the  foulest 
quarter  of  Marseille. 

In  going  to  keep  this  appointment — as  was  his 

i6o 


MADAME   JOLICGEUR'S   CAT 

habit  on  such  occasions,  in  avoidance  of  possible 
spying  upon  his  movements — he  went  deviously : 
taking  a  cab  to  the  Bassin  de  Carenage,  as  though 
some  maritime  matter  engaged  him,  and  thence 
making  the  transit  of  the  Vieux  Port  in  a  bateau 
mouche.  It  was  while  crossing  in  the  ferryboat 
that  a  sudden  shuddering  beset  him:  as  he  per- 
ceived with  horror — but  without  repentance — 
the  pit  into  which  he  descended.  In  his  previous, 
always  professional,  meetings  with  criminals  his 
position  had  been  that  of  unassailable  dominance. 
In  his  pending  meeting — since  he  himself  would 
be  not  only  a  criminal  but  an  inciter  to  crime — 
he  would  be,  in  the  essence  of  the  matter,  the 
under  dog.  Beneath  his  seemly  black  hat  his 
bald  head  went  whiter  than  even  its  normal 
deathly  whiteness,  and  perspiration  started  from 
its  every  pore.  Almost  with  a  groan,  he  removed 
his  hat  and  dried  with  his  handkerchief  what 
were  in  a  way  his  tears  of  shame. 

Over  the  interview  between  Monsieur  Peloux 
and  his  hireling — cheerfully  moistened,  on  the 
side  of  the  hireling,  with  absinthe  of  a  vileness  in 
keeping  with  its  place  of  purchase — decency 
demands  the  partial  drawing  of  a  veil.  In 
brief.  Monsieur  Peloux — his  guilty  eyes  averted, 
the  shame-tears  streaming  afresh  from  his  bald 
head — ^presented  his  criminal  demand  and  stated 

i6i 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

the  sum  that  he  would  pay  for  its  gratification. 
This  sum — being  in  keeping  with  his  own 
estimate  of  what  it  paid  for — ^was  so  much  in 
excess  of  the  hirehng's  views  concerning  the 
value  of  a  mere  cat-killing  that  he  fairly  jumped 
at  it. 

"Be  not  disturbed,  Monsieur!''  he  replied, 
with  the  fervor  of  one  really  grateful,  and  with 
the  expansive  extravagance  of  a  Marseillais 
keyed  up  with  exceptionally  bad  absinthe. 
**Be  not  disturbed  in  the  smallest!  In  this  very 
coming  moment  this  camel  of  a  cat  shall  die  a 
thousand  deaths;  aid  in  but  another  moment 
immeastuable  quantities  of  salt  and  ashes  shall 
obliterate  his  justly  despicable  grave!  To  an 
instant  accomplishment  of  Monsieur's  wishes 
I  pledge  whole-heartedly  the  word  of  an  honest 
man." 

Actually — barring  the  number  of  deaths  to 
be  inflicted  on  the  Shah  de  Perse,  and  the  need- 
lessly defiling  concealment  of  his  burial-place — 
this  radical  treatment  of  the  matter  was  precisely 
what  Monsieur  Peloux  desired;  and  what,  in 
terms  of  innuendo  and  euphuism,  he  had  asked 
for.  But  the  brutal  frankness  of  the  hireling, 
and  his  evident  delight  in  sinning  for  good  wages, 
came  as  an  arousing  shock  to  the  enfeebled  rem- 
nant of  the  Notary's  better  nature — ^with  a  re- 

162 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S    CAT 

suiting  vacillation  of  purpose  to  which  he  would 
have  risen  superior  had  he  been  longer  habituated 
to  the  ways  of  crime. 

* '  No !  No ! ' '  he  said  weakly.  *  *  I  did  not  mean 
that— by  no  means  all  of  that.  At  least — that 
is  to  say — ^you  will  imderstand  me,  my  good  man, 
that  enough  will  be  done  if  you  remove  the  cat 
from  Marseille.  Yes,  that  is  what  I  mean — 
take  it  somewhere.  Take  it  to  Cassis,  to  Aries, 
to  Avignon — ^where  you  will — and  leave  it  there. 
The  railway  ticket  is  my  charge — and,  also,  you 
have  an  extra  napoleon  for  your  refreshment 
by  the  way.  Yes,  that  suffices.  In  a  bag,  you 
know — and  soon!'* 

Returning  across  the  Vieux  Port  in  the  bateau 
mouche,  Monsieur  Peloux  no  longer  shuddered 
in  dread  of  crime  to  be  committed — his  shudder- 
ing was  for  accomplished  crime.  On  his  bald 
head,  imheeded,  the  gushing  tears  of  shame  ac- 
cumulated in  pools. 

When  leaves  of  absence  permitted  him  to  make 
retirements  to  his  coquette  little  estate  at  Les 
Martigues,  the  Major  Gontard  was  as  another 
Cincinnatus :  with  the  minor  differences  that  the 
lickerish  cookings  of  the  brave  Marthe — his  old 
femme  de  menage:  a  veritable  protagonist 
among  cooks,  even  in  Provence — checked  him- 

163 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

on  the  side  of  severe  simplicity;  that  he  would 
have  welcomed  with  effusion  lictors,  or  others, 
come  to  announce  his  advance  to  a  regiment; 
and  that  he  made  no  use  whatever  of  a  plow. 

In  the  matter  of  the  plow,  he  had  his  excuses. 
His  two  or  three  acres  of  land  lay  on  a  hillside 
banked  in  tiny  terraces — quite  imsuited  to  the 
use  of  that  implement — and  the  whole  of  his 
agricultural  energies  were  given  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  flowers.  Among  his  flowers,  intelligently 
assisted  by  old  Michel,  he  worked  with  a  zeal 
bred  of  his  affection  for  them;  and  after  his 
workings,  when  the  cool  of  evening  was  come, 
smoked  his  pipe  refreshingly  while  seated  on  the 
vine-bowered  estrade  before  his  trim  villa  on  the 
crest  of  the  slope:  the  while  sniffing  with  a  just 
interest  at  the  fumes  of  old  Marthe's  cookings, 
and  placidly  delighting  in  the  ever-new  beauties 
of  the  sunsets  above  the  distant  mountains  and 
their  near-by  reflected  beauties  in  the  waters  of 
the  Etang  de  Berre. 

Save  in  his  professional  relations  with  re- 
calcitrant inhabitants  of  Northern  Africa,  he 
was  of  a  gentle  nature,  this  amiable  warrior: 
ever  kindly,  when  kindliness  was  deserved,  in 
all  his  dealings  with  mankind.  Equally,  his 
benevolence  was  extended  to  the  lower  orders  of 
animals — that  it  was  imderstood,  and  recipro- 

164 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S    CAT 

cated,  the  willing  jumping  of  the  Shah  de  Perse 
to  his  friendly  knee  made  manifest — and  was 
exhibited  in  practical  ways.  Naturally,  he  was 
a  liberal  contributor  to  the  funds  of  the  Societe 
pro  tec  trice  des  animaux;  and,  what  was  more 
to  the  purpose,  it  was  his  well-rooted  habit  to  do 
such  protecting  as  was  necessary,  on  his  own 
accotmt,  when  he  chanced  upon  any  suffering 
creature  in  trouble  or  in  pain. 

Possessing  these  commendable  characteristics, 
it  follows  that  the  doings  of  the  Major  Gontard 
in  the  railway  station  at  Pas  de  Lanciers — on  the 
day  sequent  to  the  day  on  which  Monsieur 
Peloux  was  the  promoter  of  a  criminal  con- 
spiracy— could  not  have  been  other  than  they 
were.  Equally  does  it  follow  that  his  doings 
produced  the  doings  of  the  man  with  the  bag. 

Pas  de  Lanciers  is  the  little  station  at  which 
one  changes  trains  in  going  from  Marseille  to 
Les  Martigues.  Descending  from  a  first-class 
carriage,  the  Major  Gontard  awaited  the  Mar- 
tigues train — his  leave  was  for  two  days,  and  his 
thoughts  were  engaged  pleasantly  with  the  break- 
fast that  old  Marthe  would  have  ready  for  him 
and  with  plans  for  his  flowers.  From  a  third- 
class  carriage  descended  the  man  with  the  bag, 
who  also  awaited  the  Martigues  train.  Presently 
— the  two  happening  to  come  together  in  their 

i6s 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

saunterings  up  and  down  the  platform — the 
Major's  interest  was  aroused  by  observing  that 
within  the  bag  went  on  a  persistent  wriggling; 
and  his  interest  was  quickened  into  characteristic 
action  when  he  heard  from  its  interior,  faintly 
but  quite  distinctly,  a  very  pitiful  half-strangled 
little  mew! 

'*In  another  moment,"  said  the  Major,  ad- 
dressing the  man  sharply,  ''that  cat  will  be 
suffocated.  Open  the  bag  instantly  and  give  it 
air!" 

** Pardon,  Monsieur,"  replied  the  man,  starting 
guiltily.  **This  excellent  cat  is  not  suffocating. 
In  the  bag  it  breathes  freely  with  all  its  lungs. 
It  is  a  pet  cat,  having  the  habitude  to  travel  in 
this  manner;  and,  because  it  is  of  a  friendly 
disposition,  it  is  accustomed  thus  to  make  its 
cheerful  little  remarks."  By  way  of  comment 
upon  this  explanation,  there  came  from  the  bag 
another  half-strangled  mew  that  was  not  at  all 
suggestive  of  cheerfulness.  It  was  a  faint 
miserable  mew — that  told  of  cat  despair! 

At  that  juncture  a  down  train  came  in  on  the 
other  side  of  the  platform,  a  train  on  its  way  to 
Marseille. 

"Thou  art  a  brute!"  said  the  Major,  tersely. 
**I  shall  not  suffer  thy  cruelties  to  continue!" 
As  he  spoke,  he  snatched  away  the  bag  from  its 

i66 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR^S   CAT 

uneasy  possessor  and  applied  himself  to  untying 
its  confining  cord.  Oppressed  by  the  fear  that 
goes  with  evil-doing,  the  man  hesitated  for  a 
moment  before  attempting  to  retrieve  what 
constructively  was  his  property. 

In  that  fateful  moment  the  bag  was  opened, 
and  a  woebegone  little  black  cat-head  appeared ; 
and  then  the  whole  of  a  delighted  little  black 
cat-body  emerged — and  cuddled  with  joy-purrs 
of  recognition  in  its  deliverer's  arms!  Within 
the  sequent  instant  the  recognition  was  mutual. 
**Thimder  of  guns!"  cried  the  Major.  **It  is 
the  Shah  de  Perse!'' 

Being  thus  caught  red-handed,  the  hireling  of 
Monsieur  Peloux  cowered.  ''Brigand!"  con- 
tinued the  Major.  *'Thou  hast  ravished  away 
this  charming  cat  by  the  foulest  of  robberies. 
Thou  art  worse  than  the  scum  of  Arab  camp- 
foUowings.  And  if  I  had  thee  to  myself,  over 
there  in  the  desert,"  he  added  grimly,  ''thou 
shouldst  go  the  same  way!" 

All  overawed  by  the  Major's  African  attitude, 
the  hireling  took  to  whining.  "Monsieur  will 
believe  me  when  I  tell  him  that  I  am  but  an 
unhappy  tool — I,  an  honest  man  whom  a  rich 
tempter,  taking  advantage  of  my  unmerited  pov- 
erty, has  betrayed  into  crime.  Monsieur  him- 
self shall  judge  me  when  I  have  told  him  all!" 

167 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

And  then — ^with  creditably  imaginative  varia- 
tions on  the  theme  of  a  hypothetical  dying  wife 
in  combination  with  six  supposititious  starving 
children — the  man  came  close  enough  to  telling 
all  to  make  clear  that  his  backer  in  cat-stealing 
was  Monsieur  Peloux! 

With  a  gasp  of  astonishment,  the  Major  again 
took  the  word.  '*What  matters  it,  animal,  by 
whom  thy  crime  was  prompted?  Thou  art  the 
perpetrator  of  it — and  to  thee  comes  punish- 
ment! Shackles  and  prisons  are  in  store  for 
thee!    I  shall—" 

But  what  the  Major  Gontard  had  in  mind  to  do 
toward  assisting  the  march  of  retributive  justice 
is  immaterial — since  he  did  not  do  it.  Even  as 
he  spoke — in  these  terms  of  doom  that  qualifying 
conditions  rendered  doomless — the  man  suddenly 
dodged  past  him,  bolted  across  the  platform, 
jumped  to  the  foot-board  of  a  carriage  of  the 
just-starting  train,  cleverly  bundled  himself 
through  an  open  window,  and  so  was  gone: 
leaving  the  Major  standing  lonely,  with  im- 
potent rage  filling  his  heart,  and  with  the  Shah 
de  Perse  all  a  purring  cuddle  in  his  arms! 

Acting  on  a  just  impulse,  the  Major  Gontard 
sped  to  the  telegraph  office.  Two  hours  must 
pass  before  he  could  follow  the  miscreant;  but 
the  departed  train  ran  express  to  Marseille,  and 

i68 


MADAME   JOLICOEUR'S    CAT 

telegraphic  heading -off  was  possible.  To  his 
flowers,  and  to  the  romance  of  a  breakfast  that 
old  Marthe  by  then  was  in  the  very  act  of  pre- 
paring for  him,  his  thoughts  went  in  bitter 
relinquishment:  but  his  purpose  was  stem! 
Plumping  the  Shah  de  Perse  down  anyway  on 
the  telegraph  table,  and  seizing  a  pen  fiercely, 
he  began  his  writings.  And  then,  of  a  sudden,  an 
inspiration  came  to  him  that  made  him  stop 
in  his  writings — and  that  changed  his  flames 
of  anger  into  flames  of  joy. 

His  first  act  under  the  influence  of  this  new 
and  better  emotion  was  to  tear  his  half -finished 
despatch  into  fragments.  His  second  act  was 
to  assuage  the  needs,  physical  and  psychical,  of 
the  Shah  de  Perse — near  to  collapse  for  lack  of 
food  and  drink,  and  his  little  cat  feelings  hurt 
by  his  brusque  deposition  on  the  telegraph 
table — by  carrying  him  tenderly  to  the  buffet; 
and  there — to  the  impolitely  over-obvious  amuse- 
ment of  the  buffetiere — ^purchasing  cream  with- 
out stint  for  the  allaying  of  his  famishings.  To 
his  feasting  the  Shah  de  Perse  went  with  the 
avid  energy  begotten  of  his  bag-compelled  long 
fast.  Dipping  his  little  red  tongue  deep  into  the 
saucer,  he  lapped  with  a  vigor  that  all  cream- 
splattered  his  little  black  nose.  Yet  his  ad- 
mirable little  cat  manners  were  not  forgotten: 

169 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

even  in  the  very  thick  of  his  eager  lappings — 
pathetically  eager,  in  view  of  the  cause  of  them — 
he  purred  forth  gratefully,  with  a  gurgling 
chokiness,  his  earnest  little  cat  thanks. 

As  the  Major  Gontard  watched  this  pleasing 
spectacle  his  heart  was  all  aglow  within  him 
and  his  face  was  of  a  radiance  comparable 
only  with  that  of  an  Easter-morning  sun.  To 
himself  he  was  saying:  ''It  is  a  dream  that  has 
come  to  me!  With  the  disgraced  enemy  in 
retreat,  and  with  the  Shah  de  Perse  for  my 
banner,  it  is  that  I  hold  victoriously  the  whole 
universe  in  the  hollow  of  my  hand!'' 

While  stopping  appreciably  short  of  claiming 
for  himself  a  clutch  upon  the  universe,  Monsieur 
Peloux  also  had  his  satisfactions  on  the  evening 
of  the  day  that  had  witnessed  the  enlevement 
of  the  Shah  de  Perse.  By  his  own  eyes  he  knew 
certainly  that  that  iniquitous  kidnapping  of  a 
virtuous  cat  had  been  effected.  In  the  morning 
the  hireling  had  brought  to  him  in  his  private 
office  the  unfortimate  Shah  de  Perse — all  un- 
happily bagged,  and  even  then  giving  vent  to  his 
pathetic  complainings — and  had  exhibited  him, 
as  a  piece  justificatif,  when  making  his  demand 
for  railway  fare  and  the  promised  extra  napoleon. 
In  the  mid-afternoon  the  hireling  had  returned, 

170 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S    CAT 

with  the  satisfying  announcement  that  all  was 
accomplished:  that  he  had  carried  the  cat  to 
Pas  de  Lanciers,  of  an  adequate  remoteness, 
and  there  had  left  him  with  a  person  in  need  of  a 
cat  who  received  him  willingly.  Being  literally 
true,  this  statement  had  in  it  so  convincing  a  ring 
of  sincerity  that  Monsieur  Peloux  paid  down  in 
full  the  blood-money  and  dismissed  his  bravo 
with  commendation.  Thereafter,  being  alone,  he 
rubbed  his  hands — gladly  thinking  of  what  was 
in  the  way  to  happen  in  sequence  to  the  perma- 
nent removal  of  this  cat  stimibling-block  from 
his  path.  Although  professionally  accustomed 
to  consider  the  possibilities  of  permutation,  the 
known  fact  that  petards  at  times  are  retroactive 
did  not  present  itself  to  his  mind. 

And  yet — being  only  an  essayist  in  crime,  still 
unhardened — certain  compimctions  beset  him 
as  he  approached  himself,  on  the  to-be  eventful 
evening  of  that  eventful  day,  to  the  door  of 
Madame  Jolicoeur's  modestly  elegant  dwelling 
on  the  Pave  d'Amour.  In  the  back  of  his  head 
were  justly  self-condemnatory  thoughts,  to  the 
general  effect  that  he  was  a  blackguard  and  de- 
served to  be  kicked.  In  the  dominant  front  of 
his  head,  however,  were  thoughts  of  a  more 
agreeable  sort:  of  how  he  would  find  Madame 
Jolicoeur  all  torn  and  rent  by  the  bitter  sorrow 

12  171 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

of  her  bereavement;  of  how  he  would  pour  into 
her  harried  heart  a  flood  of  sympathy  by  which 
that  injured  organ  would  be  soothed  and  molli- 
fied; of  how  she  would  be  lured  along  gently 
to  requite  his  tender  condolence  with  a  softening 
gratitude — that  presently  would  merge  easily 
into  the  yet  softer  phrase  of  love !  It  was  a  well- 
made  programme,  and  it  had  its  kernel  of  reason 
in  his  recognized  ability  to  win  bad  causes — as 
that  of  the  insurance  solicitor  —  by  emotional 
pleadings  which  in  the  same  breath  lured  to 
lenience  and  made  the  intrinsic  demerits  of  the 
cause  obscure. 

** Madame  dines,"  was  the  announcement  that 
met  Monsieur  Peloux  when,  in  response  to  his 
ring,  Madame  Jolicoetu-'s  door  was  opened  for 
him  by  a  trim  maid-servant.  ''But  Madame 
already  has  continued  so  long  her  dining,'' 
added  the  maid-servant,  with  a  glint  in  her 
eyes  that  escaped  his  preoccupied  attention, 
''that  in  but  another  instant  must  come  the 
end.  If  M'sieu'  will  have  the  amiability  to 
await  her  in  the  salon,  it  will  be  for  but  a  point 
of  time!'' 

Between  this  maid-servant  and  Monsieur 
Peloux  no  love  was  lost.  Instinctively  he  was 
aware  of,  and  resented,  her  views — ^practically 
identical    with    those    expressed    by    Madame 

172 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S   CAT 

Gauthier  to  Monsieur  Fromagin — touching  his 
deserts  as  compared  with  the  deserts  of  the 
Major  Gontard.  Moreover,  she  had  personal 
incentives  to  take  her  revenges.  From  Monsieur 
Peloux,  her  only  vail  had  been  a  miserable  two- 
franc  Christmas  box.  From  the  Major,  as  from 
a  perpetually  verdant  Christmas-tree,  boxes  of 
bonbons  and  five -franc  pieces  at  all  times 
descended  upon  her  in  showers. 

Without  perceiving  the  curious  smile  that  ac- 
companied this  yoimg  person's  curiously  cordial 
invitation  to  enter,  he  accepted  the  invitation 
and  was  shown  into  the  salon:  where  he  seated 
himself — a  left  -  handedness  of  which  he  would 
have  been  incapable  had  he  been  less  perturbed — 
in  Madame  Jolicoetu-'s  own  especial  chair.  An 
anatomical  vagary  of  the  Notary's  meager  per- 
son was  the  undue  shortness  of  his  body  and  the 
undue  length  of  his  legs.  Because  of  this  ec- 
centricity of  proportion,  his  bald  head  rose  above 
the  back  of  the  chair  to  a  height  approximately 
identical  with  that  of  its  normal  occupant. 

His  waiting  time — extending  from  its  promised 
point  to  what  seemed  to  him  to  be  a  whole  geo- 
graphical meridian — went  slowly.  To  relieve  it, 
he  took  a  book  from  the  table,  and  in  a  desultory 
manner  turned  the  leaves.  While  thus  per- 
functorily engaged,  he  heard  the  clicking  of  an 

173 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

opening  door,  and  then  the  sound  of  voices:  of 
Madame  Jolicoeur's  voice,  and  of  a  man's  voice — 
which  latter,  coming  nearer,  he  recognized  be- 
yond all  doubting  as  the  voice  of  the  Major 
Gontard.  Of  other  voices  there  was  not  a 
sound:  whence  the  compromising  fact  was 
obvious  that  the  two  had  gone  through  that 
long  dinner  together,  and  alone!  Knowing,  as 
he  did,  Madame  Jolicoeur's  habitual  disposition 
toward  the  convenances — ^willingly  to  be  boiled 
in  oil  rather  than  in  the  smallest  particular  to 
abrade  them — he  perceived  that  only  two  expla- 
nations of  the  situation  were  possible :  either  she 
had  lapsed  of  a  sudden  into  madness;  or — the 
thought  was  petrifying — the  Major  Gontard 
had  won  out  in  his  French  campaigning  on  his 
known  conquering  African  lines.  The  cheer- 
fully sane  tone  of  the  lady's  voice  forbade  him  to 
clutch  at  the  poor  solace  to  be  found  in  the  first 
alternative — and  so  forced  him  to  accept  the 
second.  Yielding  for  a  moment  to  his  emotions, 
the  death- whiteness  of  his  bald  head  taking  on  a 
still  deathlier  pallor,  Monsieur  Peloux  buried 
his  face  in  his  hands  and  groaned. 

In  that  moment  of  his  obscured  perception 
a  little  black  personage  trotted  into  the  salon 
on  soundless  paws.  Quite  possibly,  in  his  then 
overwrought  condition,   had   Monsieur  Peloux 

J74 


MADAME    JOLICOEUR'S    CAT 

seen  this  personage  enter  he  would  have  shrieked 
— ^in  the  confident  belief  that  before  him  was  a 
cat  ghost!  Pointedly,  it  was  not  a  ghost.  It 
was  the  happy  little  Shah  de  Perse  himself — 
all  a-frisk  with  the  joy  of  his  blessed  home-coming 
and  very  much  alive!  Knowing,  as  I  do,  many 
of  the  mysterious  ways  of  little  cat  souls,  I  even 
venture  to  believe  that  his  overbubbling  glad- 
ness largely  was  due  to  his  sympathetic  percep- 
tion of  the  gladness  that  his  home-coming  had 
brought  to  two  human  hearts. 

Certainly,  all  through  that  long  dinner  the 
owners  of  those  hearts  had  done  their  best,  by 
their  pettings  and  their  pamperings  of  him,  to 
make  him  a  participant  in  their  deep  happiness; 
and  he,  gratefully  respondent,  had  made  his 
affectionate  thankings  by  going  through  all  of 
his  repertory  of  tricks — ^with  one  exception — 
again  and  again.  Naturally,  his  great  trick, 
while  unexhibited,  repeatedly  had  been  referred 
to.  Blushing  delightfully,  Madame  Jolicoeur 
had  told  about  the  night-cap  that  was  a  necessary 
part  of  it;  and  had  promised — blushing  still  more 
delightfully — that  at  sometime,  in  the  very 
remote  future,  the  Major  should  see  it  per- 
formed. For  my  own  part,  because  of  my 
knowledge  of  little  cat  souls,  I  am  persuaded 
that  the  Shah  de  Perse,  while  missing  the  details 

I7S 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

of  this  love-laughing  talk,  did  get  into  his  head 
the  general  trend  of  it;  and  therefore  did  trot  on 
in  advance  into  the  salon  with  his  little  cat  mind 
full  of  the  notion  that  Madame  Jolicoeur  im- 
mediately would  follow  him — to  seat  herself, 
duly  night-capped,  book  in  hand,  in  signal  for 
their  game  of  surprises  to  begin. 

Unconscious  of  the  presence  of  the  Shah  de 
Perse,  tortured  by  the  gay  tones  of  the  approach- 
ing voices,  clutching  his  book  vengefuUy  as 
though  it  were  a  throat,  his  bald  head  beaded 
with  the  sweat  of  agony  and  the  pallor  of  it 
intensified  by  his  poignant  emotion,  Monsieur 
Peloux  sat  rigid  in  Madame  Jolicoeur *s  chair! 

*'It  is  declared,''  said  Monsieur  Brisson,  ad- 
dressing himself  to  Madame  Jouval,  for  whom  he 
was  in  the  act  of  preparing  what  was  spoken 
of  between  them  as  ''the  tonic,'*  a  courteous 
euphuism,  **that  that  villain  Notary,  aided  by  a 
bandit  hired  to  his  assistance,  was  engaged  in 
administering  poison  to  the  cat;  and  that  the 
brave  animal,  freeing  itself  from  the  bandit's 
holdings,  tore  to  destruction  the  whole  of  his 
bald  head — and  then  triumphantly  escaped  to 
its  home!" 

*'A  sight  to  see  is  that  head  of  his!"  replied 
Madame  Jouval.     ' '  So  swathed  is  it  in  bandages, 

176 


MADAME    JOLICCEUR'S    CAT 

that  the  turban  of  the  Grand  Turk  is  less!" 
Madame  Jouval  spoke  in  tones  of  satisfaction 
that  were  of  reason  —  already  she  had  held 
conferences  with  Madame  Jolicceiir  in  regard  to 
the  trousseau. 

"And  all/'  continued  Monsieur  Brisson,  with 
rancor,  *' because  of  his  jealousies  of  the  cat's 
place  in  Madame  Jolicoeirr's  affections — the 
affections  which  he  so  hopelessly  hoped,  forgetful 
of  his  own  repulsiveness,  to  win  for  himself!" 

**Ah,  she  has  done  well,  that  dear  lady,"  said 
Madame  Jouval  warmly.  '*As  between  the  No- 
tary— ^repulsive,  as  Monsieur  justly  terms  him — 
and  the  charming  Major,  her  instincts  rightly 
have  directed  her.  To  her  worthy  cat,  who  aided 
in  her  choosing,  she  has  reason  to  be  grateful. 
Now  her  cruelly  wounded  heart  will  find  solace. 
That  she  should  wed  again,  and  happily,  was 
Heaven's  will." 

**It  was  the  will  of  the  baggage  herself!"  de- 
clared Monsieur  Brisson  with  bitterness.  *  'Hardly 
had  she  put  on  her  travesty  of  a  mourning  than 
she  began  her  oglings  of  whole  armies  of  men!" 

Aside  from  having  confected  with  her  own 
hands  the  mourning  to  which  Monsieur  Brisson 
referred  so  disparagingly,  Madame  Jouval  was 
not  one  to  hear  calmly  the  ascription  of  the  term 
baggage — the  word  has  not  lost  in  its  native 

177 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

French,  as  it  has  lost  in  its  naturalized  English, 
its  original  epithetical  intensity — to  a  patroness 
from  whom  she  was  in  the  very  article  of  receiv- 
ing an  order  for  an  exceptionally  rich  trousseau. 
Naturally,  she  bristled.  ''Monsieur  must  admit 
at  least, '*  she  said  sharply,  ''that  her  oglings  did 
not  come  in  his  direction'*;  and  with  an  irri- 
tatingly  smooth  sweetness  added:  "As  to  the 
dealings  of  Monsieur  Peloux  with  the  cat.  Mon- 
sieur doubtless  speaks  with  an  assured  knowledge. 
Remembering,  as  we  all  do,  the  affair  of  the 
unhappy  old  woman,  it  is  easy  to  perceive  that 
to  Monsieur,  above  all  others,  any  one  in  need  of 
poisonings  would  come!'* 

The  thrust  was  so  keen  that  for  the  moment 
Monsieur  Brisson  met  it  only  with  a  savage  glare. 
Then  the  bottle  that  he  handed  to  Madame 
Jouval  inspired  him  with  an  answer.  "Madame 
is  in  error,''  he  said  with  politeness.  "For 
poisons  it  is  possible  to  go  variously  elsewhere — 
as,  for  example,  to  Madame's  tongue."  Had 
he  stopped  with  that  retort  courteous,  but  also 
searching,  he  would  have  done  well.  He  did 
ill  by  adding  to  it  the  retort  brutal:  "But  that 
old  women  of  necessity  come  to  me  for  their 
hair-dyes  is  another  matter.  That  much  I  grant 
to  Madame  with  all  good  will." 

Admirably  restraining  herself,  Madame  Jouval 

178 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S   CAT 

replied  in  tones  of  sympathy:  ''Monsieur  receives 
my  commiserations  in  his  misfortimes/'  Losing 
a  large  part  of  her  restraint,  she  continued,  her 
eyes  glittering:  **Yet  Monsieur's  temperament 
clearly  is  over-sanguine.  It  is  not  less  than  a 
miracle  of  absurdity  that  he  imagined:  that  he, 
weighted  down  with  his  infamous  murderings  of 
scores  of  innocent  old  women,  had  even  a  chance 
the  most  meager  of  realizing  his  ridiculous  aspi- 
rations to  Madame  Jolicoeur's  hand!*'  Snatch- 
ing up  her  bottle  and  making  for  the  door,  with- 
out any  restraint  whatever  she  added:  ''Monsieur 
and  his  aspirations  are  a  tragedy  of  stupidity — 
and  equally  are  abounding  in  all  the  materials 
for  a  farce  at  the  Palais  de  Cristal!" 

Monsieur  Brisson  was  cut  off  from  opportimity 
to  reply  to  this  outburst  by  Madame  Jouval's 
abrupt  departure.  His  loss  of  opportunity  had 
its  advantages.  An  adequate  reply  to  her  dis- 
charge of  such  a  volley  of  home  truths  would  have 
been  difficult  to  frame. 

In  the  Vic  bakery,  between  Madame  Vic  and 
Monsieur  Fromagin,  a  discussion  was  in  hand 
akin  to  that  carried  on  between  Monsieur  Brisson 
and  Madame  Jouval — but  marked  with  a  some- 
what nearer  approach  to  accuracy  in  detail. 
Being  sequent  to  the  settlement  of  Monsieur 

179 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

Fromagin's  monthly  bill — always  a  matter  of 
nettling  dispute — ^it  naturally  tended  to  develop 
its  own  asperities. 

*'They  say/'  observed  Monsietu*  Fromagin, 
''that  the  cat — ^it  was  among  his  many  tricks — 
had  the  habitude  to  jump  on  Madame  Jolicoeur's 
head  when,  for  that  purpose,  she  covered  it  with 
a  night-cap.  The  use  of  the  cat's  claws  on  such 
a  covering,  and,  also,  her  hair  being  very  abun- 
dant—'' 

''Very  abundant!"  interjected  Madame  Vic; 
and  added:  ''She,  she  is  of  a  richness  to  buy  wigs 
by  the  scores!" 

'Tt  was  his  custom,  I  say,"  continued  Monsieur 
Fromagin  with  insistence,  ''to  steady  himself 
after  his  leap  by  using  lightly  his  claws.  His 
illusion  in  regard  to  the  bald  head  of  the  Notary, 
it  would  seem,  led  to  the  catastrophe.  Using 
his  claws  at  first  lightly,  according  to  his  habit, 
he  went  on  to,  use  them  with  a  truly  savage 
energy — ^when  he  found  him  If  as  on  ice  on  that 
slippery  eminence  and  verging  to  a  fall." 

"They  say  that  his  scalp  was  peeled  away  in 
strips  and  strings!"  said  Madame  Vic.  "And 
all  the  while  that  woman  and  that  reprobate  of 
a  Major  standing  by  in  shrieks  and  roars  of 
laughter — ^never  raising  a  hand  to  save  him  from 
the  beast's  ferocities!    The  poor  man  has  my 

1 80 


HIS    SCALP    WAS    PEELED    AWAY    IN    STRIPS    AND    STRINGS!" 


r^  t  *.. 


MADAME   JOLICCEUR'S   CAT 

sympathies.  He,  at  least,  in  all  his  doings — I 
do  not  for  a  moment  believe  the  story  that  he 
caused  the  cat  to  be  stolen — observed  rigidly 
the  convenances:  so  recklessly  shattered  by 
Madame  Jolicoeur  in  her  most  compromising 
dinner  with  the  Major  alone!'' 

**But  Madame  forgets  that  their  dinner  was  in 
celebration  of  their  betrothal — ^following  Madame 
Jolicoeur's  glad  yielding,  in  just  gratitude,  when 
the  Major  heroically  had  rescued  her  deserving 
cat  from  the  midst  of  its  enemies  and  trium- 
phantly had  restored  it  to  her  arms.'* 

*'It  is  the  man's  part,"  responded  Madame 
Vic,  ''to  make  the  best  of  such  matters.  In  the 
eyes  of  all  right-minded  women  her  conduct  has 
been  of  a  shamelessness  from  first  to  last :  tossing 
and  balancing  the  two  of  them  for  months  upon 
months;  luring  them,  and  coimtless  others  with 
them,  to  her  feet;  declaring  always  that  for  her 
disgusting  cat's  sake  she  will  have  none  of  them; 
and  ending  by  pretending  brazenly  that  for  her 
cat's  sake  she  bestows  herself — second-hand 
remnant  that  she  is — on  the  handsomest  man 
for  his  age,  concerning  his  character  it  is  well  to 
be  silent,  that  she  could  find  for  herself  in  all 
Marseille!  On  such  actions,  on  such  a  woman, 
Monsieur,  the  saints  in  heaven  look  down  with 
an  agonized  scorn!" 

i8i 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

''Only  those  of  the  saints,  Madame/'  said 
Monsieur  Fromagin,  warmly  taking  up  the  cud- 
gels for  his  best  customer,  ''as  in  the  matter 
of  second  marriages,  prior  to  their  arrival  in 
heaven,  have  had  regrettable  experiences.  Equal- 
ly, I  venture  to  assert,  a  like  qualification  applies 
to  a  like  attitude  on  earth.  That  Madame  has 
her  prejudices,  incident  to  her  misfortunes,  is 
known.'' 

*'That  Monsieur  has  his  brutaUties,  incident 
to  his  regrettable  bad  breeding,  also  is  known. 
His  present  offensiveness,  however,  passes  all 
limits.  I  request  him  to  remove  himself  from 
my  sight."     Madame  Vic  spoke  with  dignity. 

Speaking  with  less  dignity,  but  with  conviction 
— as  Monsieur  Fromagin  left  the  bakery — she 
added:  ''Monsieur,  effectively,  is  a  camel!  I 
bestow  upon  him  my  disdain!" 


A  CONSOLATE  GIANTESS 


A  CONSOLATE  GIANTESS 


CLAD,  as  usual,  in  cotton  tights  and  a 
slashed  red  velvet  jacket,  my  friend  Ma- 
dame Galissard — known  widely  and  favorably 
as  La  femme  geante  de  Languedoc — loomed 
huge  before  the  tent  entrance.  Beside  her,  as 
usual,  the  boy  Jean  beat  the  great  drum.  Above 
her,  as  usual,  was  a  vividly  painted  canvas 
representing  Monsieur  Galissard  standing  with 
one  foot  upon  the  head  of  a  prostrate  tiger  and 
with  one  hand  grasping  a  rampant  lion  by  the 
throat.  Before  her,  as  usual,  was  a  little  table 
bearing  a  tin  box  into  which  she  clicked  the  prices 
of  admission  to  the  Grand  Etablissement  Zoolo- 
gique  Alexandre  Galissard:  Premieres,  i  fr.  50; 
Secondes,  i  fr. ;  Troisiemes,  o  fr.  50  centimes. 

What  with  her  great  size,  the  generous  cut  of 
her  red  velvet  jacket,  and  the  surprising  per- 
vasiveness of  her  tights,  Madame  Galissard 
absolutely  was  the  most  striking  feature  of  every 
fair  on  her  circuit  in  the  South  of  France. 

**It  is  expected,  Monsieur,"  she  explained  to 

185 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

me  at  our  first  meeting,  ''that  I  thus  present 
myself  to  the  public.  Throughout  the  whole  of 
the  Midi  my  legs  have  an  honorable  celebrity. 
They  have  received  encomiums  without  number 
in  the  press.  I  can  show  you  a  cutting  from 
Le  Petit  Nimois  which  declares  that  they  re- 
semble the  Pillars  of  Hercules.  Also,  in  Le 
Petit  Soleil  of  Montpellier  they  have  been  de- 
scribed as  a  spectacle  more  petrifying  than  our 
entire  collection  of  wild  beasts.  But  I,  I  am 
not  made  vain.  I  value  the  admiration  of  the 
public  only  because  it  is  for  the  good  of  our 
show.  As  is  known,  all  the  forces  of  my  nature 
are  given  to  making  our  show  a  success.'* 

Over  the  heads  of  the  crowd  Madame  Galissard 
beamed  toward  me  a  smile  of  greeting.  When 
I  had  worked  my  way  across  the  double  stream 
of  fair-goers  upon  the  boulevard,  she  grasped  me 
warmly  by  the  hand. 

**And  the  brave  Alexandre?"  I  asked,  when 
we  had  made  our  exchange  of  compliments. 
**He  carries  himself  well,  as  always,  that  gallant 
subduer  of  ferocious  beasts?" 

Madame  Galissard  visibly  quivered  with  emo- 
tion— as  a  mountain  of  jelly  in  an  impossibly 
enormous  bag.  ''What!  Monsieur  has  not 
heard?"  she  exclaimed.  "It  is  incredible!  The 
whole  of  France  was  upheaved  by  that  great 

i86 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

catastrophe.  The  journals  devoted  columns  to 
it.  For  months  all  the  world  lavished  such  ad- 
miration upon  our  Neron  that  had  he  been  a 
human  being  his  head  would  have  been  com- 
pletely turned.  Ah,  my  adored  Alexandre  would 
have  rejoiced  over  the  business  that  we  did  in 
the  suite  of  the  tragedy  in  which  he  took  so 
lamentable  a  part!  Many  and  many  a  time 
had  he  said  to  me,  in  the  seasons  when  our  busi- 
ness went  badly:  'My  angel,  were  our  Neron 
to  eat  a  man  all  would  go  well  with  us — our 
fortunes  would  be  made!'  It  was  as  a  prophet 
that  he  spoke.  Monsieur — but,  alas,  when  his 
prophecies  came  to  be  realized  he  had  no  share  in 
them.  It  was  my  adored  Alexandre  himself  who 
was  eaten  by  our  N6ron — eaten  to  the  very  bones !'' 

Madame  Galissard  paused,  seemingly  to  give 
me  an  opportunity  to  express  my  sympathy  and 
my  regret.  That  was  not  easy.  A  widow  whose 
husband  has  been  served  au  naturel  to  a  lion 
is  not  met  with  every  day.  The  situation  was 
of  an  awkwardness  out  of  the  ordinary.  My 
sympathy  and  my  regret  existed,  but  I  was  at  a 
loss  to  exhibit  them  in  suitable  terms.  While 
I  hesitated,  Madame  Galissard  gave  a  turn  to 
the  matter  that  set  me  at  my  ease.  She  was  an 
artist,  that  fine  giantess.  Her  pause  had  been 
solely  for  dramatic  effect. 

13  187 


FROM  THE   SOUTH   OF   FRANCE 

**I  could  not,  Monsietir/'  she  continued, 
*' bring  myself  really  to  blame  our  poor  Neron. 
He  was  famishing.  His  need  for  food  was  im- 
perative— and  he  did  not  tmderstand,  of  course, 
that  it  was  because  of  our  necessary  economies 
that  he  was  almost  starved.  He  acted  upon  the 
impulses  of  his  nature.  He  even  may  have  had 
the  feeling,  the  good  beast,  that  he  was  helping 
us  in  our  trouble  by  making  his  own  little  econ- 
omies in  his  own  way.  None  the  less,  Monsieur, 
it  was  most  discomposing,  I  assure  you,  all  in  a 
moment,  at  a  single  stroke,  to  lose  my  adored 
Alexandre,  and  in  him  the  effective  manager  of 
our  show.  In  my  first  agonies  of  desolation  I 
did  not  remember  my  adored  Alexandre's  pro- 
phetic utterances — and  so  failed  to  realize  that 
compensation  awaited  me  for  his  loss.  Monsieur, 
in  that  crisis  of  my  fate  it  was  my  present 
husband  who  rescued  me.  The  conduct  of  my 
present  husband  in  that  cataclysm  of  our  for- 
tunes was  so  magnificent  that  I  simply  was 
compelled  to  render  to  him  all  the  affections  of 
my  heart!'* 

Madame  Galissard  again  paused.  Without 
attempting  congratulations,  I  awaited  her  further 
words.  Obviously,  in  the  case  of  a  narrative 
that  moved  so  briskly,  and  that  was  charged 
with  such  conflicting  emotions,  it  was  safer  to 

i88 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

withhold  comment  until  we  were  come  safely  to 
the  end. 

Taking  again  the  word,  the  giantess  continued : 
''Monsieur  remembers,  no  doubt,  my  adored 
Alexandre's  pupil — the  worthy  lad  Victor  Pezon? 
It  was  my  adored  Alexandre  himself  who  per- 
ceived that  excellent  young  man's  possibilities 
and  lavished  upon  him  a  father's  care.  He  had 
in  him,  my  adored  Alexandre  said  from  the  very 
first,  the  making  of  a  great  dompteur — and  in 
that,  as  in  all  things,  my  adored  Alexandre  was 
right.  Monsieur,  that  brave  young  man  it  was 
who  saved  not  only  my  life  but  the  life  of  our 
show!  In  the  very  instant  of  the  tragedy,  per- 
ceiving that  our  black  cloud  had  a  silver  lining, 
he  was  all  fire  and  eagerness  to  make  out  of  it  a 
good  account. 

'Tt  was  at  the  performance  of  a  Friday — 
and  of  a  Friday  that  fell  upon  the  thirteenth  of 
the  month — that  my  adored  Alexandre  perished. 
Will  you  believe  it? — before  ten  o'clock  the  next 
morning  my  Victor  had  handbills  everywhere 
(our  stand  that  week  was  in  Tarascon)  proclaim- 
ing all  that  had  passed  in  glowing  words.  Mon- 
sieur Manivet,  the  amiable  editor  of  Le  Petit 
Eclair  d'Avignoriy  composed  for  us  that  heroic 
description  of  my  adored  Alexandre's  destruc- 
tion.    Our  gratitude  to  Monsieur  Manivet  is 

189 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

lasting.  We  have  given  him  free  admission  to 
our  exhibition  for  Kfe. 

**By  consequence,  on  the  Saturday  evening 
our  tent  was  filled  to  suffocation.  Every  other 
show  in  the  fair  was  deserted.  Even  the  flying 
horses  were  paralyzed.  Even  the  montagnes 
russes  stood  still.  And  we,  we  turned  hundreds 
— literally,  hundreds — ^from  our  doors!  It  was 
as  my  adored  Alexandre  had  said :  every  one  was 
wild,  demented,  infuriated,  to  see  the  lion  who 
had  eaten  a  man!  My  tears  flowed  in  torrents, 
Monsieur.  I  would  have  given  continents  could 
my  adored  Alexandre  have  been  present  that 
evening  to  enjoy  the  verifying  of  his  own  words. 
The  bitterness  of  my  sorrow  was  increased  by 
the  reflection  that,  in  a  way,  he  was  present — 
but  it  was  only  as  a  part  of  our  Neron  that  he  was 
there ! 

''As  to  my  Victor's  performance  with  Neron 
on  that  great  occasion,  it  was  majestic  beyond 
words.  Neron,  to  be  sure,  was  a  little  degage. 
It  was  but  natural.  For  a  whole  month,  because 
of  our  bad  business,  we  had  been  unable  to  give 
the  brave  beast  a  full  meal.  Being  at  last 
satisfied,  he  was  dull.  But  my  Victor's  energy 
more  than  made  up  for  our  Neron's  sluggishness. 
He  was  superb!  Stopping  only  just  short  of 
being  himself  eaten,  he  re-enacted  the  whole  of 

190 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

the  tragedy — and  with  so  furious  a  realism  that 
almost  a  panic  arose.  I  myself  was  a  witness  of 
that  stupendous  performance — ^which  at  once 
wrung  all  my  heart-strings  and  filled  me  with  a 
delighted  surprise.  I  had  not  suspected — I  am 
confident  that  even  my  adored  Alexandre  had 
not  suspected — that  such  heroic  possibilities 
resided  in  my  Victor's  soul.  That  evening  my 
Victor  wholly  won  my  heart.  On  the  ensuing 
morning,  at  the  Mairie  of  Tarascon,  I  gladly 
bestowed  upon  him  my  hand. 

''The  relative  promptness  of  our  marriage, 
Monsieur,  was  of  necessity.  The  lion  legally 
was  mine — and  sacredly  was  mine  because  of 
his  precious  contents — ^but  without  a  lion-tamer 
he  was  valueless.  Similarly,  the  extraordinary 
genius  of  my  Victor  was  valueless  without  a  lion 
upon  which  to  exercise  it.  The  safeguarding  of 
our  common  interests  therefore  required  that  we 
should  continue  together;  and,  that  being  the 
case,  the  convenances  demanded  that  we  should 
be  married  without  needless  delay.  It  was  that 
which  decided  me.  To  the  convenances,  Mon- 
sieur, I  am  and  always  have  been  absolutely  a 
slave.  I  am  proud  to  add  that  those  considera- 
tions of  convenience  and  of  propriety  were 
reinforced  by  considerations  of  affection  and  of 
gratitude.     That  excellent  young  man  deservedly 

191 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

had  won  my  love  and  my  esteem.  Reasonably, 
however,  my  tender  attachment  to  my  adored 
Alexandre's  memory  would  not  suffer  me  to 
cast  aside  his  name — by  which,  moreover,  I  was 
known  professionally  throughout  our  entire 
circuit  of  fairs.  That  sainted  name  I  have 
retained.  As  Monsieur  will  observe  upon  exam- 
ining our  bills,  I  now  am  styled  Madame  Galis- 
sard-Pezon.'* 

There  was  a  finality  about  this  statement  which 
encouraged  me  to  break  my  guarded  silence. 
Properly  mingling  condolence  with  congratula- 
tion, I  did  my  possible  to  express  to  that  tempest- 
tossed  giantess  my  felicitations  and  my  regrets. 
*'And  now,  no  doubt,'*  I  said  in  conclusion, 
''the  Etablissement  Zoologique  Galissard-Pezon 
goes  upon  wheels." 

The  giantess  shook  her  head  sadly.  **  Mon- 
sieur is  most  amiable  to  be  so  interested  in  our 
welfare,'*  she  replied.  *T  wish  that  things  were 
with  us  as  he  supposes.  But  it  is  not  so.  Already 
our  great  good-fortune  is  a  thing  of  the  past. 
No  one  understood  better  than  my  adored 
Alexandre  the  fickleness  of  the  public.  Yet 
in  his  words  of  prophecy  he  left  that  fickleness 
out  of  the  account.  For  a  time  it  seemed  as 
though  we  were  to  grow  rich  beyond  the  dreams 
of  avarice;  as  though  my  adored  Alexandre,  aided 

192 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

by  our  brave  Neron,  had  coined  himself  into 
gold.  At  fair  after  fair,  in  the  big  towns  and  in 
the  little  towns,  everywhere  it  was  the  same: 
all  the  world  thronged  to  onr  show  in  a  surging 
multitude.  The  enthusiasm  of  the  public  was 
without  limit.  Our  Neron,  my  Victor,  I — we 
became  celebrities.  In  Marseille,  Monsieur,  we 
filled  a  month's  engagement  at  the  Palais  de 
Cristal — ^positively.  Monsieur,  on  my  honor,  a 
month's  engagement  at  the  Palais  de  Cristal! 
It  was  the  crowning  glory  of  my  life.  Always, 
from  the  moment  that  I  came  into  the  profession, 
the  very  zenith  of  my  ambition  was  to  appear  at 
the  Palais  de  Cristal — and  there  I  was ! 

"Our  success  in  that  superb  theater  was  with- 
out parallel.  Figure  to  yourself  the  spectacle. 
In  the  center  of  the  stage,  enclosed  in  a  grating 
of  extra  strength,  was  our  Neron;  with  him, 
elegantly  attired  in  velvets,  was  my  Victor;  in 
the  front — a  little  to  one  side,  that  the  view 
should  remain  unobscured — was  I.  My  own 
dress,  Monsieur,  was  of  a  simplicity,  but  of  a 
richness.  From  head  to  foot  I  was  in  silk  tights. 
Imagine  my  feelings !  All  my  life  silk  tights  had 
been  my  dream!  In  that  superb  dress,  night 
after  night,  I  stood  on  the  stage  of  that  mag- 
nificent palais  de  concert  while  my  Victor  glow- 
ingly re-enacted  my  adored  Alexandre's  tragedy; 

193 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

coming  so  close  to  the  very  edge  of  its  ending  that 
to  me,  to  every  one,  it  seemed  that  in  another  in- 
stant we  should  hear,  we  should  behold,  our 
Neron  crunching  his  bones!  The  furor  of  the 
spectators  was  beyond  words.  They  shrieked! 
They  roared !  As  for  me.  Monsieur,  my  emotions 
were  so  poignant  and  so  conflicting  that  my  head 
swam.  My  devotion  to  the  memory  of  my 
adored  Alexandre,  aroused  to  a  burning  intensity 
by  that  thrilling  recreation  of  his  last  moments, 
dissolved  me  in  tears.  (Dressed  as  I  was.  Mon- 
sieur, it  was  impossible  to  carry  a  handker- 
chief. I  could  only  brush  away  my  tears  with 
my  hand.)  But,  also,  being  filled  with  a  pas- 
sionate admiration  for  my  Victor's  heroically 
realistic  performance,  I  was  stirred  by  an  en- 
thusiasm which  made  me  forget  my  grief  in  the 
ennobling  thought  that  I  was  at  once  the  widow 
of  a  great  artist — eaten,  but  immortal — and  the 
wife  of  an  even  greater  artist — equally  immortal, 
but  uneaten — who  still  was  alive! 

''Nor  will  I  conceal  from  you,  Monsieur,  that — 
standing  upon  that  exalting  stage,  where  all 
my  life  I  had  longed  to  stand — ^wearing  that  rich 
dress,  which  all  my  life  I  had  longed  to  wear — 
my  artist  soul  was  filled  to  brimming  with  an 
honorable  pride.  Behind  me  hung  a  black 
curtain.     Against   it   my   figure   stood   out   in 

194 


A   CONSOLATE  GIANTESS 

stately  statuesque  relief.  I  was  as  another 
Galathee — but  heroic  in  my  animated  marble 
majesty  beyond  that  heroine  of  the  opera.  No 
Galathee  who  ever  walked  the  stage  of  France 
had  legs  like  mine!  The  remainder  of  my  per- 
son— it  is  always  as  the  artist  that  I  speak — was 
only  less  impressive.  Above  all,  I  had  the  true 
artist's  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  the  absolute 
simplicity  of  my  costume  made  my  appeal  to  the 
admiration  of  the  public  absolutely  sincere. 
Monsieur,  I  conquered  that  admiration  at  a 
blow!  I  fairly  divided  with  my  noble  Victor 
and  our  brave  Neron  the  honors  of  that  series 
of  stupendous  performances.  More  than  that, 
the  composer  of  the  Palais  de  Cristal,  by  direction 
of  the  manager,  embalmed  my  legs  in  song.  The 
words  and  the  medoly  were  caught  up  by  every 
one  on  the  very  first  evening.  The  song  spread 
like  wildfire.  In  an  instant  it  was  echoing  in 
every  quarter  of  Marseille.  Monsieur,  when  I 
heard  the  whole  populace  of  that  great  city 
chanting  with  one  voice  that  song  in  my  honor 
I  knew  that  the  supreme  moment  of  my  Ufe  had 
come!'' 

Madame  Galissard-Pezon  had  given  her  his- 
tory of  her  triumphs  with  a  constantly  increasing 
verve;  but  as  she  uttered  those  final  words  there 
was  in  her  tone  a  triste  undernote  not  to  be 

I9S 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

mistaken.  Obviously,  the  supreme  moment  of 
her  life  had  come — and  gone!  It  was  done  with 
a  light  touch,  that  revelation  of  disaster  following 
upon  victory.  There  was  the  subtle  inflection 
of  the  voice.  That  was  all — ^but  it  sufficed! 
Truly,  she  v/as  an  artist.  Had  not  her  great  size 
barred  to  her  the  ordinary  walks  of  the  profession 
she  would  have  been  an  ornament  to  the  dramatic 
stage.  But  to  her,  and  she  knew  it,  theatrical 
success  in  the  commonly  accepted  sense  of  the 
phrase  was  hopeless.  Fancy  the  appearance  on 
the  boards,  with  a  hero  of  the  usual  French  dimen- 
sions, of  a  heroine  2  metres  19  centimetres  high! 
Of  necessity,  as  she  herself  said,  such  a  combina- 
tion would  produce  a  tumult,  a  revolt.  In 
moments  of  emotion,  that  excellent  giantess 
has  confided  to  me  that  her  mountainous  pro- 
portions were  at  once  her  glory  and  her  despair. 
While  we  talked — or,  rather,  while  the  giantess 
talked  and  I  listened — the  boy  Jean  continued  to 
beat  the  big  drum  with  an  honest  vigor,  and  from 
time  to  time  stray  couples  from  the  crowd  clinked 
their  money  into  the  tin  box  and  entered  the 
tent.  But  so  far  from  there  being  any  popular 
excitement,  any  pressing  forward  of  an  en- 
thusiastic throng  eager  to  behold  a  thrilling 
spectacle,  these  stragglers  were  miserably  few. 
It  was  as  though  the  great  Neron  were  the  most 

196 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

commonplace  of  lions;  as  though  he  never  had 
made  a  place  for  himself  in  fame  and  in  history 
by  eating  his  man. 

''The  performance  goes  to  begin,"  the  giantess 
said,  sighing  a  little.  **  Monsieur  will  have  the 
amiability  to  enter?  Ah,  Monsieur  is  most 
generous — a  whole  louis,  and  he  refuses  to  take 
his  change!  He  is  altogether  American!  Had 
this  niggard  France  the  free  hand  of  Monsieur's 
America  our  misfortunes  would  vanish  as  a  bad 
dream!  But  it  is  not  so.  Monsieur  has  seen 
for  himself  how  despicably  few  are  our  patrons. 
When  he  enters  he  will  perceive  that  he  alone 
has  taken  a  premiere — has  taken,  indeed,  with 
his  superb  American  liberality,  a  whole  row  of 
premieres;  that  the  secondes  make  but  a  beg- 
garly account;  that  the  thin  success  left  to  us 
rests  only  with  the  troisifemes — and  that  even 
they  give  us  their  wretched  ten  sous  so  grudgingly 
that  our  tent  is  as  empty  as  a  forgotten  island  in  a 
lonely  sea! 

**  Nothing,  Monsieur,  remains  to  us  of  our 
triumphs.  In  these  black  days  we  drink  our 
wine  double-watered,  and  we  subsist  upon  crusts 
which  we  moisten  with  our  tears.  As  for  our 
unhappy  beasts,  they  languish  for  sustenance. 
At  the  best,  we  can  give  them  but  a  single  meager 
meal  a  day.     Our  great  Neron,  whose  appetite 

197 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

is  a  prodigy,  exists  always  in  torment.  It  is 
agonizing  to  hear  his  lamentations.  He  is  as 
hollow,  that  unfortunate  animal,  as  our  big 
drum.  With  the  white  bear  of  the  glacial  seas 
it  is  the  same.  I  weep  as  I  behold  him  moping 
in  his  cage  miserably.  I  am  pierced  with  emotion 
as  he  turns  toward  me  his  beseeching  eyes. 
His  supplication  is  as  plain  as  though  it  were 
expressed  in  words.  And  when  I  give  him  my 
sympathies,  my  compassions — ^it  is  all  that  I 
have  to  give  him — he  moans  pitifully  in  bitter- 
ness of  spirit,  and  turns  again  to  the  sucking  of 
his  paws.  The  case  of  our  royal  tiger  of  Bengal 
is  yet  more  calamitous.  That  unfortunate  crea- 
ture knows  not  even  the  consolations  of  sucking 
his  paws !  The  panther,  the  jaguar,  the  leopard 
visibly  are  pining  away.  Only  the  monkeys 
and  the  birds  are  a  little  less  unhappy.  Our 
ten-sous  patrons  find  amusement  in  giving  them 
some  morsels  and  crumbs  of  food.  Of  them  all, 
our  anaconda  alone — having  had  his  half-yearly 
rabbit  at  the  appointed  season — as  yet  makes 
no  complaint.  But  I  have  the  terrible  convic- 
tion that  soon  even  the  anaconda's  turn  must 
come!  And  to  think  that  only  a  little  year  ago 
our  worthy  animals  were  filled  every  day  to 
repletion — ^while  we  ourselves  were  feasting  like 
princes,  like  emperors,  as  we  went  rolling  in  our 

198 


A   CONSOLATE    GIANTESS 

gold !  Monsieur,  not  a  day  passes  that  I  do  not 
find  myself  a  dozen  times  saying — it  is  in  my 
heart  of  an  artist  that  I  say  it — my  heart  of  a 
woman  shudders  at  the  thought:  'Ah,  if  our 
Neron  would  but  eat  another  man!' 

*'But  enter,  Monsieur — enter,  and  see  for 
yourself  the  full  measure  of  our  despair.  And 
after  the  performance — it  ends  quickly,  my  poor 
Victor  having  no  heart  to  prolong  it — Monsieur 
must  honor  us  by  drinking  with  us  a  glass  of 
absinthe.  It  will  be  a  delight  to  extend  to  Mon- 
sieur our  little  hospitalities — ^it  will  be  as  it  was 
in  the  old  days.  He  will  find  us  in  the  rear  of 
the  tent.  We  have  a  little  table  there,  beneath 
an  enchanting  tree.  And  Monsieur  will  find  with 
us  two  old  friends  of  his,  the  excellent  M'sieu- 
Madame  Rique.  Monsieur  remembers  them — 
the  proprietors  of  the  wax- works?  We  continue, 
as  always,  to  go  the  tour  together.  In  good 
days  and  in  bad  days  we  have  marched  in  com- 
pany for  a  round  dozen  of  years.  In  fair  times 
and  in  foul  times  it  is  the  same  with  them :  they 
ring  true  always,  they  ring  true  as  gold  They  have 
cherished  Monsieur  delightedly  in  their  memories. 
When  they  speak  of  him,  as  they  do  constantly, 
it  is  in  warm  words  which  come  straight  from  their 
good  hearts.  To  meet  him  again  will  arouse  in 
those  good  hearts  of  theirs  a  tumult  of  joy. 

199 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

**Also,  Monsieur  will  find  with  us  my  Victor's 
pupil  and  assistant,  the  worthy  young  Marius 
Bompuy.  We,  my  Victor  and  I,  are  as  his 
father  and  his  mother.  As  I  say  to  my  Victor, 
my  feelings  toward  that  excellent  youth  are  as 
they  were  toward  himself  in  the  happy  days  when 
my  adored  Alexandre  still  was  aKve.  He  goes 
to  be  a  great  dompteur — a  subduer  of  animals 
whose  fame  will  make  a  blaze  in  the  whole  world. 
My  Victor  takes  pride  in  his  astonishing  abilities 
and  encourages  him  to  exercise  himself  in  feats 
of  daring.  Between  them — ^for  all  that  Marius 
is  of  a  modesty — there  is  the  noble  emulation 
of  true  artists.  We  feel  profoundly  that  he  has  a 
great  future;  that  he  surely  is  destined  to  arrive. 

**And  now  Monsieur  must  enter  on  the  instant. 
I  hear  within  my  Victor's  voice.  His  con- 
ference upon  the  animals  begins.  It  is  inimitable, 
his  conference;  Monsieur  must  not  miss  a  word. 
Au  revoir.  Monsieur.  We  meet  at  the  little  table 
behind  the  tent  when  the  representation  ends.*' 

Only  consideration  for  the  feelings  of  my 
friends  enabled  me  to  sit  out  that  sad  per- 
formance: in  which  the  spectators  were  without 
enthusiasm,  and  in  which  the  performers  were 
without  heart.  It  went  with  a  dull  dreariness — 
and  yet  was  thrilled  with  a  touch  of  desperate 
animation  by  the  feeling  of  hunger  that  was  in 

200 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

the  air.  The  monkeys  chattered  angrily.  The 
royal  tiger  of  Bengal  lashed  his  tail  against  his 
lean  sides  and  uttered  dismal  growls.  The 
white  bear  of  the  glacial  seas  made  the  pitiful 
moaning  noises  of  which  the  giantess  had 
spoken;  and  betweenwhiles,  with  a  tragic  energy, 
sucked  ravenously  his  paws.  In  the  eyes  of  the 
great  Neron  there  was  so  famished  a  look  that 
I  cotild  not  repress  shudders  of  anxiety  when  my 
friend  Victor  thrust  his  head  within  the  monster's 
jaws.  I  gave  a  sigh  of  relief  when  it  came  out 
again — and  entire!  The  pupil,  Marius  Bompuy, 
a  handsome  young  fellow  of  two  or  three  and 
twenty,  took  but  a  minor  part  in  the  performance. 
His  modesty  was  obvious.  His  spirit  of  emula- 
tion was  less  conspicuously  displayed.  That 
he  left  the  more  daring  ventures  to  his  master 
was  undeniable;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  his 
master  did  not  accept  his  disposition  to  self- 
effacement  quite  in  good  part.  In  this  I  may 
have  been  mistaken;  but  I  certainly  was  not 
mistaken  in  regard  to  the  look  of  relief  upon 
my  friend  Victor's  face  when  his  act  with  the 
great  Neron  had  come  to  a  good  end.  That  act 
was  the  culminating  feature  of  the  performance. 
Ten  minutes  later  we  all  were  gathered  about  the 
little  table  in  the  rear  of  the  tent  beneath  the 
enchanting  tree. 

20I 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

Our  talk,  at  first,  went  cheerily.  Those 
honest  souls  seemed  to  be  as  glad  to  have  me 
with  them  as  I,  on  my  side,  was  glad  to  be  in  their 
good  company.  M'sieu-Madame  Rique  greeted 
me  with  effusion;  the  lion-tamer  with  an  equal 
cordiality,  but  with  an  air  of  weariness;  the  pupil, 
Marius  Bompuy,  being  introduced  to  me,  de- 
clared that  he  was  honored  by  my  acquaintance 
— and  modestly  disclaimed  my  rejoinder  that  I 
was  honored  by  knowing  a  lion-tamer,  already 
ranged  in  his  profession,  who  surely  would  mount 
quickly  the  ladder  of  fame.  In  a  moment  we 
all  were  chattering  away  together  like  magpies 
in  a  hedge — all  save  our  good  Victor,  whose 
weariness  made  him  a  little  distrait.  That  was 
only  natural.  To  thrust  one's  head  into  the 
jaws  of  a  lion,  with  the  feeling  that  it  may  not 
come  out  again,  no  doubt  puts  an  exhausting 
strain  upon  one's  nerves. 

On  the  little  table  stood  a  jug  of  water,  a  half- 
dozen  tumblers,  and  a  bottle  of  execrably  bad 
absinthe.  They  had  not  touched  this  refresh- 
ment. With  a  charming  politeness  they  had 
awaited  my  coming.  The  giantess  herself  filled 
my  tumbler — towering  above  me,  as  she  stood 
to  perform  that  kindly  office,  like  a  tall  tree. 
When  the  other  tumblers  had  been  filled  we  all 
rose  and  touched  glasses  above  the  table — it  is 

202 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

the  Provengal  custom — and  drank  to  each  other 
with  a  great  good-will.  Victor,  I  observed, 
drained  his  tumbler  to  the  last  drop  before  he 
set  it  down.  Yet  the  absinthe,  all  the  more  be- 
cause of  its  wretched  quality,  was  of  a  fiery 
strength.  Before  my  own  portion  was  half 
finished  my  head  began  to  swim.  Presumably, 
being  strong  enough  to  dare  the  jaws  of  a  lion, 
Victor's  head  was  strong  enough  equally  to  dare 
that  dangerous  absinthe.  Certainly,  he  im- 
mediately refilled  his  glass.  He  performed  this 
act  with  a  gloomy  aloofness,  as  though  for 
another  person;  with  a  like  air  of  detachment  he 
rolled  and  lighted  an  extremely  bad  cigarette. 
As  he  smoked,  sipping  the  while  from  his  tumbler, 
his  look  of  bodily  weariness  wore  away  a  little; 
but  the  cheering  of  his  spirit  lagged  appreciably 
behind  the  cheering  of  his  flesh.  In  the  hope  of 
heartening  him,  I  offered  my  congratulations 
upon  his  advance  in  his  profession  since  our  last 
meeting.  Necessarily,  I  spoke  guardedly.  The 
regrettable  accident  which  had  promoted  him 
from  the  rank  of  a  lion-tamer's  pupil  to  that  of  a 
master  lion-tamer  had  its  complications.  'To 
congratulate  him  in  the  presence  of  the  lady 
whom  that  accident  had  widowed  required  both 
tact  and  delicacy — and  all  the  more  because  the 
lady,  ceasing  with  an  amiable  abruptness  to  be  a 
14  203 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

disconsolate  widow,  had  become  his  own  conso- 
late  wife.  It  was  not  easy,  but  I  think  that  I  did 
succeed  in  expressing  myself  with  an  appropriate 
caution  and  also  with  an  appropriate  warmth. 
Unfortunately,  my  sympathetic  endeavor  was 
not  crowned  with  success. 

*'Monsietir  is  very  amiable,'*  he  replied  de- 
jectedly. ''I  am  grateful  to  him  for  his  good- 
will. But  to  be  a  tamer  of  lions  is  not  to  rest 
upon  a  bed  of  roses.''  He  paused,  and  then 
added  with  bitterness:  *' Rather  is  it  to  be  man- 
gled upon  a  bed  of  thorns!"  Sighing  heavily, 
he  took  a  long  draught  of  absinthe. 

**My  brave  one!"  exclaimed  the  giantess  in 
tones  of  comforting.  ''Thou  art  the  very  first  of 
living  lion-tamers,  and  thou  hast  the  admiration 
of  the  whole  world.  Let  thy  expansive  soul  be 
cheered  by  the  tribute  of  homage  that  intelligent 
men  and  women  pay  thee  all  the  evenings,  and  by 
the  awed  ecstasy  that  thou  inspirest  in  innocent 
children  at  the  representation  enf  antine  on  all  the 
Sunday  and  Thursday  afternoons." 

The  brave  one  did  not  respond  to  that  en- 
couraging exhortation.  It  is  possible  that  the 
exclusion  of  deceased  lion-tamers  from  the 
measure  of  his  greatness  may  have  touched  a 
chord  that  jangled  a  little  in  his  expansive  soul. 

''To    be    a    lion-tamer,    I    repeat,"    he    said 

204 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

gloomily,  ''is  to  court  unhappiness.  I  may  even 
say,  more  broadly,  that  only  misery  is  the  portion 
of  all  who  associate  their  fortunes  with  the 
exhibition  of  ungrateful  wild  beasts.  Search 
through  the  entire  universe,  and  I  defy  you  to 
find  a  profession  so  despicable  in  every  way!'' 
As  he  uttered  these  energetic  words  he  glared 
fiercely  at  Monsieur  Rique — as  though  that  ex- 
cellent man  personally  was  responsible  for  the 
ingratitude  of  wild  beasts  —  and  brought  his 
hand  down  upon  the  table  with  a  bang. 

Monsieur  Rique,  actual  proprietor  of  the 
Agregation  Incroyable  de  Figures  de  Cire, 
accepted,  but  moodily,  the  challenge.  ''Thou 
hast  no  need  to  search  through  the  universe  to 
find  a  more  despicable  profession,''  he  answered 
with  a  profound  melancholy.  "Thou  hast  only 
to  cross  the  table  that  stands  between  us  and  thy 
search  is  made!  Be  thankful,  my  good  Victor, 
that  the  lucky  star  of  wild  animals  was  regnant 
at  thy  nativity.  To  be  born  beneath  the  malig- 
nant star  of  wax- works  is  another  thing!" 

Monsieur  Rique,  in  turn,  sighed  heavily. 
Madame  Rique,  I  perceived,  was  disposed  to 
sigh  with  him — but  she  checked  her  sigh  bravely, 
and  said  with  an  admirable  assumption  of 
cheerfulness:  "No,  no,  my  Gaston,  it  is  not  so 
bad  as  that.     The  calamity  that  is  upon  us  is 

205 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

but  momentary — in  this  disgracing  town  in- 
habited only  by  camels  who  have  no  souls  for 
art." 

''Wax- works!''  cried  the  lion-tamer,  with  an 
indignant  scorn.  ''Wax- works!  Do  wax- works 
require  at  every  instant  of  the  day  and  night  the 
attention  that  a  mother  lavishes  upon  her 
children?  Do  wax- works  demand  that  they 
be  taught  to  stand  upon  their  hind  legs? — to 
traverse  the  ring  upon  a  bicycle? — to  leap 
through  flaming  hoops? — to  perform  an  endless 
variety  of  edifying  feats?  And  above  all, 
above  all  I  ask,  do  wax- works  eatf  Rather 
should  I  ask,  do  they  ravage,  do  they  desolate, 
do  they  devour?  Our  lion,  our  great  Neron, 
absorbs  meat  as  the  parched  desert  absorbs  the 
rain.  The  white  bear  of  the  glacial  seas  is  as  a 
bottomless  pit.  The  royal  tiger,  the  panther,  the 
jaguar,  together  cry  out  for  the  sustenance  of  a 
score  of  men.  The  monkeys  and  the  birds  are 
less  disastrous  only  by  comparison.  Of  them 
all,  only  the  anaconda  has  a  reasonable  appetite. 
For  that  brave  reptile  a  single  rabbit  suffices 
for  half  a  year — and  to  those  who  desire  to  ob- 
serve him  in  the  edifying  act  of  eating  his  rabbit 
we  make  an  extra  charge.  Wax- works!  Wax- 
works, indeed!  To  be  the  fortunate  owner  of 
wax- works  is  a  lot  that  the  angels  of  heaven  may 

206 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

pine  for — while  to  be  the  outraged  proprietor 
of  wild  animals  is  to  suffer  a  punishment  more 
bitter  than  is  inflicted  upon  the  fiends  of  hell!'' 
*'Calm  thyself,  my  soul,*'  the  giantess  put  in 
soothingly.  ''Calm  thyself,  my  Victor.  As  our 
good  Marie  here  has  said,  this  town  of  Saint- 
Cesaire — ^it  was  a  desolating  fate  that  brought 
us  here — is  inhabited  by  human  beings  who  in 
taste  and  in  discernment  are  as  the  beasts  that 
perish.  Their  meager  natures  are  without  aspi- 
rations. Art  is  a  sealed  book  to  them.  For  en- 
lightenment they  have  no  desire.  To  expect 
them  to  appreciate  the  exalting  influences  of 
wax-works  is  to  expect  swine  to  appreciate  the 
beauty  of  pearls.  Equally  are  they  insensible  to 
the  ennobling  influences  of  natural  history. 
Creatures  of  such  a  sort  have  no  wish  to  behold 
our  unrivaled  collection  of  wild  animals,  to 
listen  to  thy  illuminating  discourses  upon  the 
wonders  of  zoology,  to  see  thy  magnificent  feats 
of  daring — which  elsewhere  thrill  more  intelli- 
gent spectators  with  mingled  admiration  and 
alarm.  From  us,  from  our  friends  here,  they 
withhold  their  wretched  sous  with  an  iron 
avarice — and  with  an  infamous  prodigality  basely 
lavish  fortunes  upon  humiliating  cock-shys,  and 
soulless  flying-horses,  and  profligate  montagnes 
russes. 

207 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

*'But  reassure  thyself,  my  Victor.  As  our 
Marie  has  said,  our  calamity  is  but  momentary. 
To-morrow  we  shake  from  off  our  feet  the  dust 
of  this  ungrateful  Saint-Cesaire  and  go  on  to 
Maussane.  It  is  an  honest  little  town.  Our 
success  there,  a  year  ago,  was  superb.  It  will  be 
again  superb.  Silver  will  flow  in  upon  us  in 
rivers.  Our  pockets  will  be  bursting.  We  shall 
feast  at  the  excellent  little  Hotel  du  Petit  Saint- 
Roch  —  thou  rememberest  the  civet  of  hare 
that  they  gave  us  there? — and  every  one  of  our 
hungering  animals  shall  have  a  full  meal.  Even 
our  anaconda  shall  be  fed.  Now  is  not  the  season 
for  his  rabbit,  but  he  shall  have  one.  In  our 
times  of  leanness  the  considerate  abstinence  of 
that  amiable  serpent  is  our  only  comfort.  It  is 
but  just  to  him  that  in  our  times  of  fatness  he 
also  should  have  his  little  feast.  Think,  then, 
my  Victor,  of  the  good-fortune  that  is  so  near  at 
hand.  Think  how  merrily  we  shall  eat  together 
our  civet,  and  how  we  shall  drink  with  it  a 
bottle  of  that  good  red  wine  which  they  make  over 
there  on  the  warm  Southern  declivities  of  the 
Alpilles!" 

I  am  persuaded  that  In  speaking  with  this 
resolute  cheerfulness  the  good  giantess  con- 
sciously was  permitting  sanguine  hope  to  get 
some  stages  in  advance  of  reasonable  probability. 

208 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

But  upon  the  lion-tamer — whose  gloom  ap- 
preciably had  been  undermined  by  the  fiery 
absinthe — the  effect  of  her  heartening  deliver- 
ance was  excellent. 

*'My  angel!''  he  said  warmly.  '*Thy  great 
soul  is  in  keeping  with  thy  great  body.  On  thy 
vast  breast  always  I  find  comforting.  Thy 
faith  in  our  happy  future  raises  me  from  despair. 
I  rely  upon  thy  glad  prophecies.  With  thee,  I 
am  confident  that  the  noble  inhabitants  of  Maus- 
sane  will  atone  to  us  for  our  disaster  here  in  this 
ignoble  Saint-Cesaire.  Again  we  shall  march 
conquering.  And  perhaps — who  knows? — per- 
haps again  fortune  may  favor  us  by  giving  our 
Neron  the  opportunity  to  eat  another  man!'' 

As  Monsieur  Pezon  spoke  these  final  words 
— speaking  them  a  little  thickly;  and  letting 
them  slip,  perhaps,  under  the  stimulus  to  sin- 
cerity supplied  by  the  absinthe — I  observed  that 
his  glance  rested  for  an  instant  upon  Monsieur 
Bompuy.  What  was  more  curious,  I  observed 
that  simultaneously  the  glance  of  Monsieur 
Bompuy  rested  for  an  instant  upon  Monsieur 
Pezon.  In  those  glances  it  seemed  to  me  that 
I  had  the  key  to  the  spirit  of  noble  emulation 
which  the  giantess  had  declared  existed  between 
the  lion-tamer  and  his  assistant — only  I  was  in- 
clined to  believe  that  their  noble  emulation  was 

209 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

of  an  inverted  sort  that  led  each  of  them  to  aban- 
don to  the  other  the  honor  of  coming  closest  to 
Neron's  jaws. 

''Heart  of  my  heart/*  the  lion-tamer  contin- 
ued, **I  shall  drink  one  more  glass  of  this  ex- 
cellent absinthe  to  thy  health  and  to  thy  happi- 
ness. I  can  do  no  less,  in  recognition  of  thy  com- 
forting and  sustaining  love." 

With  a  prompt  decision,  the  giantess  placed 
restrainingly  her  huge  hand  upon  his  upraised 
arm.  *'No,  not  now,  my  Victor,  not  now,''  she 
said  in  a  tone  at  once  persuasive  and  firm. 
''Already  the  afternoon  draws  to  its  ending. 
The  representation  of  the  evening  is  not  far  off — 
and  then  thy  nerves  must  be  steady  and  thy 
head  cool.  Our  Neron  is  in  no  mood  to  be 
trifled  with,  as  thou  knowest  well.*' 

"Absinthe  admirably  steadies  the  nerves  and 
cools  the  brain,"  put  in  Monsieur  Bompuy. 

The  lion-tamer  had  manifested  a  disposition 
to  shake  off  his  wife's  great  grasp  and  to  carry 
out,  in  spite  of  her,  his  gallant  project  of  drinking 
to  her  health  and  happiness.  That  his  as- 
sistant's comments  upon  the  steadying  and  cool- 
ing properties  of  absinthe  were  intended  to 
strengthen  him  in  this  intention  was  obvious. 
Oddly  enough,  they  seemed  to  have  upon  him  a 
directly    contrary    effect.     Certainly,    as    those 

2IO 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

words  were  spoken,  he  yielded  gracefully  to  the 
moral  and  material  pressure  put  upon  him  and 
withdrew  his  outstretched  hand. 

**Thou  art  right,  my  angel,''  he  said.  **Thou 
art  right,  as  always — and  it  suffices  that  I  drink 
my  toast  to  thee  in  my  heart.  Moreover,  with 
Monsieur's  permission,  I  shall  go  now  to  the 
fountain  and  soak  this  head  of  mine  in  the  re- 
freshing water,  and  then  to  repose  myself  before 
the  representation  begins.  And  our  Marius, 
here,"  he  added  dryly,  ''shall  be  free  to  steady 
his  nerves  and  to  cool  his  brain  with  all  the 
absinthe  that  remains.  I  observe  that  his  con- 
duct is  not  in  accord  with  his  counsel :  as  yet  he 
has  not  finished  his  single  glass.  Au  revoir, 
a  plaisir.  Monsieur." 

As  the  lion-tamer  left  us  he  shot  another  look 
from  under  his  brows  at  his  assistant.  But  his 
assistant  was  busied  in  rolling  a  cigarette  at  that 
moment  and  the  look,  if  observed,  was  not 
returned. 

Presently  Monsieur  Bompuy  also  left  us. 
''The  master  sets  me  a  good  example,"  he  said. 
"With  Monsieur's  permission  I  will  follow  it. 
I  too  will  go  to  repose  myself  before  the  evening. 
In  dealing  with  our  Neron  just  now,  as  was 
observed  by  Madame,  it  is  well  to  have  a  clear 
head  and  a  steady  hand.     But,  truly,  Madame 

211 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

does  the  good  beast  an  injustice.  At  his  roots, 
even  in  his  hunger,  he  is  of  an  amiability  toward 
those  whom  he  knows  to  be  his  friends.  He  has 
the  best  heart,  our  great  Neron,  of  any  Hon  in 
the  whole  world.'*  So  speaking,  Monsieur  Bom- 
puy  made  his  bow  to  us  and  went  his  way. 

A  moment  later  M'sieu-Madame  Rique  rose 
from  their  seats.  ''It  is  time.  Monsieur,*' 
Madame  Rique  explained,  *'that  we  prepare 
ourselves  for  the  evening.  Our  good  Victor 
said  but  now  that  wax  figures,  unlike  wild  ani- 
mals, make  no  demands,  require  no  services. 
He  could  not  possibly  have  uttered  words  more 
extravagantly  at  variance  with  the  miserable 
truth!  Wax  figures.  Monsieur,  are  a  constantly 
exhausting  care.  They  compel  us  to  a  harassing 
vigilance  that  fills  every  instant  of  our  lives. 
At  this  very  moment  the  nose  of  Monsieur  le 
President  Carnot — I  observed  it  at  the  afternoon 
performance — ^is  turned  askew;  and,  also,  the 
hand  in  which  Santo  holds  his  assassin  dagger 
is  cracking  at  the  wrist.  And  yet  those  figures 
(it  is  our  most  pleasing  group — Monsieur  must 
do  us  the  honor  to  behold  it)  are  almost  new! 
As  to  the  older  figures — the  Holy  Father,  the 
great  Emperor,  Monsieur  Thiers,  the  thrilling 
group  of  two  Zulu  savages  slaying  the  Prince 
Imperial — they   are    crumbling   into   fragments 

212 


A   CONSOLATE  GIANTESS 

in  every  hour  of  the  day.  We  spend  otir  entire 
existence,  Monsieur,  in  making  the  necessary 
repairs.  We  breathe  an  atmosphere  charged 
with  the  fumes  of  boiHng  wax  through  all  the 
long  evenings  which  succeed  to  our  days  of  toil. 
The  hours  which  should  be  free  to  us  for  health- 
ful slumber  are  devoted  to  making,  to  mending, 
the  costly  garments  in  which  our  figures  are 
attired.  Wild  animals,  no  doubt,  do  require  a 
certain  amount  of  attention — that  much  I  ad- 
mit freely.  But,  Monsieur,  wild  animals  do  not 
explode  themselves  into  fragments  with  an 
imbecile  malignity;  they  do  not  demand  that 
heated  wax  be  used  without  ceasing  in  their 
restoration ;  they  are  clad  at  all  times,  pleasingly 
and  economically,  in  their  own  costless  skins. 
No,  no — in  cheerful  attendance  upon  wild  ani- 
mals one  leads  a  life  of  unruffled  gladness.  It 
is  as  the  hopeless  slave  of  wax  figures  that  one 
comes  to  know  that  which  preys  upon  one's 
very  vitals,  which  plunges  one's  whole  being 
irrevocably  into  caverns  of  despair!'' 

Madame  Rique  was  so  overcome  by  her  emo- 
tion that  she  left  us  without  making  her  fare- 
wells. Monsieur  Rique,  only  less  moved,  equally 
was  incapable  of  words.  Without  speaking,  he 
raised  his  hat  to  us.  In  his  eyes  I  saw  the  glint 
of  tears. 

213 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

*'And  yet,  really,  those  good  souls  swim  in 
what  almost  is  a  sea  of  happiness!"  said  the 
giantess,  when  we  were  left  alone  together. 
**For  this  past  week,  in  this  wretched  town,  it 
is  true  that  their  business  has  been  bad.  But  at 
Uzes,  in  the  week  before,  they  made  a  little 
fortune;  and  even  here,  while  they  have  nothing 
for  the  stocking,  they  have  taken  in  enough 
silver  to  cover  the  cost  of  the  stand.  As  to 
expenses — except  now  and  then  the  cost  of  a  new 
figure,  and  the  cost  of  the  wax  which  their 
mendings  consume — they  have  none  at  all.  By 
Madame  Rique's  own  showing,  they  do  every- 
thing for  themselves.  It  is  not  with  them  as  it 
is  with  us — to  whom  ceaselessly  in  all  seasons  a 
multitude  of  hungry  animals  comes  clamoring 
for  costly  food.  Monsieur  may  have  observed 
upon  our  bills  the  announcement  that  'the  direc- 
tion buys  the  old  horses,  asses,  and  mules,  in 
good  health,  for  the  nourishment  of  the  ani- 
mals*— ^but  Monsieur  can  have  no  conception  of 
the  prodigious  outlay  which  those  purchases 
compel  when  they  are  made  in  sufficient  quan- 
tities for  our  needs.  It  is  the  soul-crushing 
thought  of  that  hopelessly  huge  outlay — un- 
avoidable if  we  would  save  our  beasts  from 
perishing — that  weighs  upon  us  always  with  a 
leaden   heaviness,    and   that   drives   my   brave 

214 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

Victor  to  his  absinthe  as  an  escape  from  his 
despair!'' 

The  giantess  paused  and  sighed  deeply.  With 
a  pained  earnestness  she  continued:  *' Monsieur, 
it  is  my  Victor's  increasing  habit  of  drowning 
his  despair  in  his  absinthe  that  is  ruining  me  pro- 
fessionally by  eating  the  flesh  from  off  my  bones. 
In  the  past  three  months,  because  of  my  anxieties, 
I  have  lost  no  less  than  twenty  kilos.  In  my 
best  condition,  I  have  weighed  as  much  as  two 
hundred  and  ninety  kilos.  Figure  for  yourself 
how  long  it  will  be,  at  this  rate,  before  I  shall 
wither  wholly  away !  That,  of  course,  is  an  ex- 
travagance. My  stature  of  necessity  will  re- 
main; but  my  figure,  Monsieur,  my  figure,  in 
which  I  have  the  honest  pride  of  an  artist,  will 
be  lost !  Already,  as  a  glance  at  these  wrinklings 
of  the  cotton  webbing  reveals,  my  legs  have 
shrunk  calamitously  —  and  with  the  shrinking 
of  my  legs,  of  necessity,  there  must  be  also  a 
shrinking  of  my  fame.  Only  the  other  day,  at 
Uzes,  I  was  forced  to  listen  to  a  disastrous  com- 
parison that  was  instituted  between  my  legs  and 
those  of  a  giantess  lately  come  into  the  profession 
from  the  Department  of  the  Loire.  It  was 
unfair  in  every  particular,  that  comparison.  It 
was  malevolently  false.  I  have  seen  the  person 
with    whom    I    was    compared — she    had    the 

215 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

eflfrontery  to  make  a  stand  at  one  of  our  fairs — 
and  I  know  that  all  of  my  measurements  exceed 
hers.  None  the  less,  those  cruel  words  cut  into 
me  as  knives — ^because  they  aroused  in  my  soul 
the  dread  to  which  we  artists  ever  are  most 
sensitive :  the  dread  that  our  popularity  is  on  the 
wane.  False  though  they  were,  there  was  the 
seed  of  truth  in  them.  Even  I  cannot  lose 
twenty  kilos  of  flesh  without  losing  also  in  the 
delicacy  of  my  lines! 

**And  it  is  wholly.  Monsieur,  my  anxieties  for 
my  Victor  which  are  causing  this  destruction  of 
my  person.  It  is  my  dread  of  what  may  chance 
some  day — when  his  absinthe  has  made  him 
careless,  and  when  our  poor  Neron  is  more  than 
usually  hungry — that  is  wasting  me  away.  For 
the  representation  enfantine,  at  three  hours  and 
a  half,  I  have  no  fears.  At  that  time  in  the 
day  my  Victor  is  of  the  correctness  of  an  arch- 
bishop. But  when  it  comes  to  the  representa- 
tions of  all  the  evenings,  at  eight  hours,  there  is 
not  one  of  them  but  causes  me  thrillings  of  dis- 
may. When  he  said  but  now  that  the  eating  of 
another  man  by  our  Neron  would  restore  our 
broken  fortunes,  I  shuddered  in  my  soul.  He 
was  repeating,  all  unconsciously,  my  adored 
Alexandre's  very  words!  That  those  words  are 
true  affords  me  no  consolation.     I  am  an  artist, 

216 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

I  am  a  woman — but  above  all,  Monsieur,  I  am 
a  wife!  As  an  artist,  I  long  for  a  repetition  of 
those  triumphs  which  bathed  me  in  an  exalting 
happiness.  As  a  woman,  I  long  to  wear  again 
those  richly  adorning  silks  in  which  the  com- 
manding lines  of  my  figure  so  superbly  were  dis- 
played. But  as  a  wife,  as  a  great-hearted  wife, 
I  have  a  natural  hesitation  about  purchasing 
fresh  triumphs  and  fresh  adornment  on  the 
same  terms. 

'*In  this  I  am  absolutely  sincere.  Monsieur 
saw  for  himself  that  I  compelled  my  Victor  to 
cut  short  his  dangerous  drinking.  I  give  Mon- 
sieur my  word  that  I  put  upon  my  Victor  the 
like  compulsion  every  day.  Equally,  my  effort 
was  the  same  in  the  case  of  my  adored  Alexandre. 
I  struggled  to  check  in  him  the  habit  that  ended 
in  his  destruction.  My  struggle,  as  Monsieur 
knows,  was  unavailing.  In  the  case  of  my 
Victor  it  again  may  be  unavailing.  Should  he 
have  a  successor,  and  should  his  successor  betray 
a  like  weakness,  the  struggle  shall  be  resumed. 
Sacrificing  the  artist,  crushing  the  woman,  it  is 
my  high  resolve  to  be  only  and  always  the  loyal 
and  the  heroic  wife — with  whom  self-interest  is  as 
nothing,  with  whom  wifely  duty  is  sacredly  su- 
preme. I  desire.  Monsieur,  that  that  creditable 
fact  shall  be  inscribed  upon  my  tomb.     All  of 

217 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

my  measurements,  when  in  my  best  condition, 
and  also  my  weight,  will  be  stated  in  that  in- 
scription. I  have  spoken  of  the  matter  to  my 
Victor,  and  also — as  a  safeguard  against  acci- 
dents— to  his  assistant,  the  excellent  young 
Marius  Bompuy.  They  have  promised  me  that 
my  wishes  shall  be  regarded.  It  is  arranged. 
That  record  of  my  measurements,  and  of  my 
weight,  will  give  to  my  monument  a  unique 
distinction.  But  when  I  think,  Monsieur,  of 
the  record  of  my  wifely  devotion  which  will 
accompany  it  I  am  filled  with  a  still  nobler 
pride.  I  repeat.  Monsieur,  I  am  an  artist,  I  am 
a  woman — but  I  am  a  wife  above  all!" 

As  the  giantess  gave  expression  to  this  lofty 
sentiment  her  moral  grandeur,  matching  to  a 
hair  her  material  grandeur,  was  magnificent. 
The  Obelisk  of  Luxor  could  not  have  spoken 
with  a  more  majestic  bearing  nor  with  a  nobler 
air.  But  even  while  her  words  still  thrilled  me 
the  look  of  animation  faded  from  her  expansive 
countenance,  and  again  she  uttered  a  heavy 
sigh. 

** Monsieur,**  she  continued,  in  a  tone  of  sad- 
ness, **my  enthusiasms  carry  me  away  and  I 
forget  myself.  I  have  the  little  duties  of  a 
devoted  wife  to  perform  as  well  as  the  great 
duties.     It  is  necessary  now  that  I  prepare  the 

218 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

dinner.  I  must  excuse  myself  that  I  may  attend 
to  that  affair.  My  Victor  is  of  an  amiability, 
but  he  reasonably  has  his  little  access  of  feeling 
when  his  eating  is  delayed.  This  evening,  thanks 
to  Monsieur's  American  open  hand,  he  shall  fare 
well.  But  it  will  not  be  a  feast,  our  little  meal, 
and  I  do  not  venture  to  ask  Monsieur  to  share  it 
with  us.  Perhaps  that  happiness  may  be  ours 
on  another  day:  in  the  good  times  that  will 
come  for  us  when  again  our  Neron —  But  no, 
that  thought  must  be  crushed  within  my  breast ! 
What  I  would  say  is,  that  perhaps  we  may  have 
the  pleasure  of  entertaining  Monsieur  at  our 
humble  board  when  once  again  we  bask  in  for- 
tune's smiles. 

**And  Monsieur  is  resolute  to  return  to  Nimes 
by  the  train  of  six  hours?  It  is  deplorable!  He 
would  find  the  evening  representation  of  a 
brilliance.  My  Victor  always  then  is  at  his  best 
— ^perhaps  because  of  the  absinthe.  Monsieur 
truly  is  resolute  to  go?'* 

Monsieur  truly  was  resolute  to  go.  Even  to 
oblige  that  worthy  giantess  I  was  not  prepared 
again  to  put  my  nerves  on  the  rack  by  spending 
another  hour  among  those  starving  animals; 
to  see  again,  with  my  heart  in  my  mouth,  my 
friend  Victor's  head  in  the  way  to  be  cracked 
like  a  filbert  in  the  great  Neron's  jaws. 
15  219 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

Two  years  later  I  was  in  Marseille.  In  the 
interval  I  had  been  in  England  and  across  to 
America.  I  had  received  letters  from  my  friends 
the  poets  of  the  South — they  are  excellent  cor- 
respondents— and  even  from  some  of  the  paint- 
ers; but,  naturally,  no  word  had  come  to  me  from 
my  artist  friends  of  the  road.  Letter-writing 
was  an  accomplishment  not  in  their  line.  On 
the  occasions  when  I  had  happened  to  see  a 
French  newspaper  I  had  examined  every  part  of 
it  with  a  painful  care;  and  had  taken  a  long 
breath  when  I  found  no  record  of  a  lion  who  had 
made  his  little  economies — as  the  giantess  had 
phrased  it — by  eating  a  man.  That  was  some- 
thing to  the  good.  But  it  was  so  little  that 
whenever  my  thoughts  turned  to  my  friend  Vic- 
tor I  was  preyed  upon  by  a  feeling  of  gloom. 

In  regard  to  the  giantess  my  feelings  were 
more  complex.  Her  case  and  her  Victor's  case — 
in  the  deplorable  event  of  Neron's  practising 
upon  the  latter  his  little  economies — differed 
radically.  For  Victor,  obviously,  the  situation 
would  have  no  compensations — save,  perhaps,  a 
merely  momentary  thrill  of  satisfaction  in  the 
thought  that  he  was  alleviating  the  necessities 
of  a  trusted  friend.  But  for  the  giantess  the 
translation  of  the  lion-tamer  into  the  lion  would 
be  far  from  meaning  an  absolutely  black  despair. 

220 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

As  a  devoted  wife,  that  translation  would  have 
a  dark  side  for  her;  but  as  an  artist  and  as  a 
woman — I  had,  in  effect,  her  word  for  it — there 
would  be  a  silver  lining  to  her  somber  cloud.  In 
the  outcome  of  the  matter  it  was  impossible  not 
to  feel  a  lively  interest.  Really,  it  was  more 
than  anything  else  my  desire  to  get  news  of 
those  friends  of  mine  that  had  brought  me  to 
Marseille. 

''Monsieur,  no  doubt,  dines  as  usual  at  Bre- 
gaillon's  and  in  the  evening  goes  as  usual  to  the 
Palais  de  Cristal?'*  It  was  Monsieur  Chabassu, 
actual  proprietor  of  the  Grand  Hotel  due  Paradis, 
who  thus  addressed  me.  He  is  an  old  friend, 
the  worthy  Chabassu.     He  knows  my  ways. 

''And  at  the  Palais  de  Cristal,"  Chabassu 
continued,  "Monsieur  will  find  an  attraction  over 
which,  for  the  moment,  all  the  town  goes  mad. 
It  is  a  lion  who  has  eaten  in  succession  three  of 
his  keepers.  The  feeling  is  aroused,  naturally, 
that  at  any  moment  he  may  eat  his  present 
keeper,  the  fourth.  To  be  witness  of  that 
thrilling  spectacle — painful,  but  most  interesting 
— all  the  world  attends.  The  Palais  de  Cristal 
is  packed  nightly  to  its  very  doors.  Also,  the 
widow  of  the  three  who  have  been  eaten — she  is 
the  wife  of  the  fourth,  the  one  who  now  awaits 
the  caprices  of  the  lion's  appetite — ^is  a  part 

221 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

of  the  spectacle:  a  giantess,  Monsieur,  with  legs 
so  stupendous — they  resemble  the  towers  of  a 
fortress — that  the  whole  city  is  singing  a  song 
in  which  their  immensity  is  described.  Mon- 
sieur is  most  fortunate  in  coming  to  Marseille 
at  this  moment.  I  venture  to  advise  that  he 
makes  sure  of  the  purchase  of  his  ticket  before  he 
dines.  The  demand  for  seats  is  enormous.  The 
pressure  of  the  throng,  when  the  doors  are 
opened,  is  like  the  surging  of  a  stormy  sea.*' 

It  was  evident  that  Chabassu  had  given  me — 
in  broad  outline,  and  with  a  not  unnatural  Pro- 
vencal exaggeration — the  very  news  that  I  was 
in  search  of.  And  it  also  was  evident  that  I 
had  only  to  go  to  the  Palais  de  Cristal  that 
evening  to  obtain  the  details — which  would 
correct  his  florid  estimate  of  the  great  Neron's 
man-eating  exploits — from  the  giantess  herself. 
Following  his  good  advice,  I  hurried  to  secure 
my  ticket;  and  then  went  on  to  my  dinner  at 
Bregaillon's :  over  which  I  lingered — over  Mon- 
sieur Bregaillon's  dinners  it  is  impossible  not 
to  linger,  even  in  seasons  of  such  emotion  as 
mine  then  was — until  close  upon  the  hour  when, 
as  I  had  been  told  at  the  box-office,  the  lion  act 
would  come  on.  Then  I  betook  myself  to  my 
seat  in  the  stalls. 

The  spectacle  that  I  beheld  was  identical  with 

222 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

that  which  the  giantess  so  vividly  had  described 
to  me  two  years  earlier.  It  went  with  the  same 
splendid  furor.  It  glowed  with  the  same  soul- 
thrilling  fire.  In  the  center  of  the  stage  was  a 
strong  cage  of  iron  containing  the  great  Neron 
and  his  keeper — the  latter  clad  brilliantly  in 
crimson  velvet  embroidered  with  gold.  At  the 
side,  in  relief  against  a  black  curtain,  was  the 
giantess  herself — again  arrayed  in  the  rich  but 
simple  silk  costume  that  was  so  dear  alike  to  her 
woman  heart  and  to  her  artist  soul.  She  had 
more  than  regained  her  lost  twenty  kilos.  Her 
measurements,  as  she  subsequently  assured  me, 
were  greater  than  ever  before.  Standing  there 
in  strong  relief  against  the  black  curtain,  her 
appearance  was  of  an  impressiveness — of  a 
geographical  opulence  that  made  her  a  veritable 
animated  object-lesson  in  the  use  of  the  globes. 
The  comparison  that  had  been  instituted  between 
the  nether  portions  of  her  person  and  the  Pillars 
of  Hercules  seemed  inadequate.  Chabassu  had 
come  nearer  to  the  truth  with  his  fine  simile  of 
the  towers  of  a  chateau  fort.  Briefly,  the 
giantess  was  superb! 

The  enthusiasm  that  she  aroused  among  the 
spectators  was  stupendous.  The  very  walls 
were  shaken  by  the  tempests  of  their  cheers. 
Presently,  with  the  orchestra  leading,  the  whole 

223 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

house  burst  forth  with  the  song  in  which,  to  use 
her  own  words,  her  legs  had  been  embalmed. 
The  tumult — the  very  spirit  of  Marseille  was 
regnant — was  frantic,  delirious,  overwhelming! 
I  myself  was  carried  away  by  it.  In  a  moment 
I  was  shouting  with  the  others  the  refrain  of  that 
embalming  song.  The  whole  building  trembled 
as  we  roared  out  together: 

"V'lk  des  jambes!    Colonnes  d'Hercule!" 

In  the  midst  of  that  whirlwind  of  excitement 
the  doings  of  the  lion-tamer  and  the  lion  passed 
almost  unnoticed.  At  least,  they  received  but 
little  attention  after  Neron's  obvious  docility — 
when  sufficiently  fed,  he  was  the  most  amiable  of 
lions — -Jiad  convinced  the  spectators  that  there 
was  no  likelihood,  on  that  occasion,  of  his 
treating  his  keeper  as  the  resisting  piece  of  a 
table  d'hdte. 

Half  an  hour  later,  the  act  being  ended,  I  was 
on  my  way  to  the  green-room  to  offer  my  con- 
gratulations to  the  recipient  of  that  magnificent 
ovation;  and  also  to  offer  to  her  such  expressions 
of  sympathy  as  might  seem  to  be  called  for  when 
she  had  given  me  details  of  the  tragedies  which 
had  occurred  since  our  parting  at  Saint-Cesaire. 

I  use  the  word  tragedies,  rather  than  tragedy, 

224 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

advisedly.  The  lion-tamer  whom  I  had  seen 
that  evening  in  the  cage  with  Neron  was  not 
Pezon,  he  was  not  even  Bompuy ;  he  was  a  person 
absolutely  unknown  to  me.  Still  more  ominous 
was  the  fact  that  on  the  bills  of  the  performance 
the  name  of  the  giantess  had  been  given  as 
Madame  Galissard  -  Pezon  -  Bompuy  -  Roustan. 
What  had  become,  I  asked  myself  with  anxiety, 
of  my  friend  Victor  and  of  the  youthful  Marius? 
Who,  I  further  asked  myself,  was  Roustan? 
The  painful  conviction  possessed  me  that  I  had 
done  Chabassu  an  injustice  in  attributing  ex- 
aggeration to  his  statement  of  Neron's  achieve- 
ments. It  looked  as  though  that  energetic 
animal  had  been  practising  his  little  economies 
upon  rather  a  startlingly  large  scale! 

The  giantess,  clad  elegantly  but  concisely  in 
her  sheening  silk,  welcomed  me  warmly.  In  her 
effusive  friendliness  she  even  honored  me  with 
an  embrace.  I  am  not  a  pygmy,  but  I  was  as 
an  infant  in  her  massively  enfolding  arms. 

''Monsieur  beholds  me,''  she  exclaimed  joy- 
ously, as  she  released  me  from  her  chaste  em- 
brace, ''in  the  very  moment  of  my  greatest 
triumph!  All  of  my  previous  triumphs  together 
are  as  nothing  to  that  which  I  now  achieve.  I 
am  in  raptures  that  Monsieur  has  returned  at 
this  auspicious  instant  to  be  a  witness  of  the 

225 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

magnificent  tribute  of  homage  that  I  receive 
from  all  the  world.  And  I  rejoice  that  Monsieur 
also  has  seen  the  splendid  act  that  is  made  with 
our  brave  Neron  by  my  Felix.  It  is  a  name  of 
fate,  Monsieur.  With  my  Felix,  the  utmost 
felicity  of  my  life  has  arrived!" 

''But  Victor,  but  Marius,  what — ?*'  I  began. 
And  then  checked  myself  abruptly,  fearful  that 
my  question  was  ill-advised. 

* '  Ah,  my  adored  Victor !  My  adored  Marius  !* ' 
the  giantess  answered  with  feeling.  ''Alas, 
Monsieur,  they  went  the  way  of  my  adored 
Alexandre!  Our  Neron  ate  them  both!''  The 
giantess  sighed  heavily.     In  her  eyes  were  tears. 

"Surely  not  at  once?*'  I  ventured  to  ask. 

"No,  no.  Monsieur  does  the  good  beast 
injustice.  He  has  a  conscience,  our  Neron. 
It  was  under  the  stress  of  his  necessities  that  he 
acted.  Between  his  two  meals  there  was  an 
interval  of  a  year.  Our  anaconda  could  not  have 
been  more  temperate,  more  self-restrained. 

"Naturally,  as  Monsieur  will  understand,  when 
my  adored  Victor  was  eaten  I  married  at  once 
my  adored  Marius.  As  before,  in  a  business 
way  our  marriage  was  necessary;  as  before,  it 
was  demanded  imperatively  by  the  convenances 
— as  Monsieur  knows,  my  existence  is  rooted  in 
the  convenances;  and,  also,  as  I  desire  to  say 

226 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

frankly,  the  devotion  of  my  adored  Marius  to 
my  interests,  and  his  still  stronger  devotion  to 
my  person,  extorted  from  me  a  wealth  of  affec- 
tion that  came  warmly  from  my  heart.  As  on 
a  previous  occasion,  my  marriage  was  one  of 
convenience  and  propriety;  but  equally,  as  on  a 
previous  occasion,  it  was  a  marriage  of  love. 
Unhappily,  still  as  on  a  previous  occasion,  it 
was  not  destined  to  endure.'' 

Tears  flowed  from  the  eyes  of  the  giantess  as 
she  spoke.  Her  costume — as  she  once  had 
explained  to  me — not  permitting  her  to  carry 
a  handkerchief,  she  was  compelled  to  brush  them 
away  with  her  hand.  Controlling  her  emotion 
resolutely,  she  continued  her  narrative. 

''After  my  adored  Victor  was  lost  to  me. 
Monsieur,  we  had  a  season  of  splendid  prosperity 
— ^my  adored  Marius  and  I.  My  adored  Marius 
was  admirable  in  his  management  of  the  affair; 
and  our  good  friend  Monsieur  Manivet  once 
more  helped  us  in  the  making  of  a  handbill  which 
drew  francs  in  streams  from  all  pockets  and  tears 
in  streams  from  all  eyes.  Again,  Monsieur,  a 
prodigious  success  attended  everywhere  upon  us 
— but  again,  disastrously,  our  success  faded 
slowly,  until  at  last  it  withered  utterly  away! 
Once  more  our  poor  animals  suffered  agonies  in 
their  craving  for  the  food  that  we  could  not  give 

227 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

them;  and  once  more  our  Neron,  being  enraged 
with  hunger —  Monsieur  must  pardon  me. 
It  is  impossible  that  I  continue.  My  emotion 
overcomes  me.  I  can  say  only  that  once  more 
our  Neron — perhaps  again  the  faithful  animal 
had  the  feeling  that  he  was  making  his  little 
economies  in  our  interest — was  satisfied  with  an 
ample  meal.  When  his  meal  was  ended  my 
adored  Marius  was  au  troisieme — my  Felix  is 
the  author  of  the  jeu  d'esprit — in  our  Neron's 
inside ! 

**That  tragedy,  Monsieur,  happily  is  of  the 
past.  It  has  become  a  retrospect.  More  than 
a  month  has  elapsed  since  the  merging  of  my 
adored  Marius  in  our  Neron  was  effected.  My 
sorrow  must  endure  always;  but  its  extreme 
poignancy,  as  is  reasonable,  begins  to  be 
alleviated  by  the  soothing  touch  of  time.  In  its 
first  fierce  moments,  Monsieur,  my  grief  was 
insupportable.  My  Felix — ^he  was  the  assistant 
of  my  adored  Marius — then  was  everything  to 
me.  But  for  his  masterly  management  of  the 
business  side  of  that  trying  situation,  but  for  the 
tender  comforting  which  he  bestowed  upon  me  in 
my  hours  of  agony,  my  affairs  would  have  been 
involved  in  a  hopeless  ruin  and  I  myself  should 
have  succumbed  to  a  desolating  despair.  Stop- 
ping only  for  the  single  instant  in  which  he 

228 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

strengthened  me  with  his  consolations,  he  left 
Saint-Remy  —  it   was  in   Saint-Remy  that  my 
adored  Marius  was  eaten — and  flew  on  the  wings 
of  the  wind  to  Marseille.    In  the  course  of  that 
same  single  morning,  such  was  his  conquering  en- 
ergy, he  was  at  my  sorrowing  side  again — bringing 
me  renewed  happiness  with  the  assurance  that  he 
had   secured   for   us   the   splendid   engagement 
that   we   are   filling   now.     Nor   was   that   all. 
Thinking  of  everything,  and  moving  with  the 
speed  of  a  thunderbolt,  he  had  visited  Monsieur 
Samat  in  his  editorial  office;  with  the  result  that 
a   spirituel   account   two   columns   long  of  our 
Neron's  doings  appeared  the  next  morning  in 
Le   Petit   Marseillais.     It    was    exquisite,    that 
article;  and  touching  in  the  extreme.     I  wept 
over  it  in  torrents.     I  wore  it  for  days — when 
my  dress  was  of  a  sort  to  permit  me  that  luxury 
of  grief — pinned  close  upon  my  faithful  heart! 
''Still  with  the  same  masterful  energy,   my 
Felix  organized  our  immediate  departure  from 
Saint-Remy.     We    came    away — on    the    train 
of  two  hours  and  twenty  minutes — that  very 
afternoon:  leaving  behind  us,  to  follow  later,  all 
of  our  belongings  save  our  Neron.     That  our 
Neron  should  accompany  us  was  essential.     He 
was  a  necessary  part  of  our  act.     But  even  had 
he  not  been  necessary  to  our  act,  Monsieur,  I 

229 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

could  not  have  brought  myself  to  forsake  that 
faithful  animal:  in  whom  was  embodied,  and 
therefore  in  a  way  not  lost  to  me,  so  many  of 
those  whom  so  devotedly  I  had  loved.  That 
selfsame  evening  we  all  appeared  together — I, 
my  Felix,  our  Neron  filled  with  his  endearing 
memories — on  this  exalted  and  exalting  stage. 
What  my  reception  was,  Monsieur,  I  do  not 
need  to  tell  you.  Within  the  hour  you  have 
seen  a  repetition  of  it  with  your  own  eyes!*' 
The  giantess  made  this  reference  to  her  popular 
triumph  with  an  air  and  with  a  gesture  worthy 
of  a  queen. 

'*As  you  may  imagine.  Monsieur,"  she  con- 
tinued, ''my  gratitude  to  my  Felix  was  without 
bounds.  That  he  had  secured  our  engagement 
here  at  the  Palais  de  Cristal,  to  be  sure,  was  not 
surprising.  With  a  lion  to  offer  who  had  eaten 
three  men;  with  a  giantess  to  offer — it  is  as  an 
artist  that  I  speak — who  is  without  a  rival  in  the 
profession,  the  engagement  was  an  affair  that 
made  itself.  But  I  felt  that  I  owed  him  much 
for  the  splendid  energy  which  he  had  expended 
in  my  service;  and  I  felt  that  I  owed  him  still 
more — I  am  proud.  Monsieur,  to  tell  you  this — 
for  the  exquisite  delicacy  which  had  characterized 
his  attitude  toward  myself.  I  am  forced  to 
confess  to  you  that  my  adored  Victor  and  my 

230 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

adored  Marius  had  been  less  delicate.  In  avow- 
ing their  affection  for  me  they  had  acted  with  a 
closer  approach  to  precipitance  than  accorded 
with  the  stricter  niceties  of  good  taste.  My 
F61ix,  on  the  contrary,  carried  his  observance  of 
the  niceties  of  good  taste  almost  to  an  extreme. 
Not  a  word  did  he  breathe  to  me  of  a  feeling  more 
than  tenderly  friendly  until  the  business  matter 
wholly  was  concluded  and  we  were  on  our  way 
to  Marseille  in  the  train! 

*'In  the  mean  time,  Monsieur,  through  those 
long  hours,  I  had  been  thinking  deeply — and 
all  of  my  thinking,  guided  by  my  past  experi- 
ences, led  to  the  same  result.  As  always,  from 
the  standpoint  of  my  professional  interests,  I 
perceived  the  need  of  retaining  with  my  lion  a 
competent  lion-tamer.  As  always,  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  convenances  —  to  the  obser- 
vance of  which,  as  Monsieur  knows,  I  devote  my- 
self with  an  unflinching  exactitude — I  perceived 
that  only  in  one  way  could  that  need  be  satisfied 
with  propriety.  But  also,  Monsieur,  I  was 
swayed  by  a  higher  and  a  more  tender  senti- 
ment. I  was  profoundly  grateful  to  that  fine- 
natured  young  man  for  his  touching  forbearance; 
for  the  restraint  that  he  had  put  upon  himself  in 
hiding  so  resolutely  the  feeling  which  I  knew  was 
in  his  heart.     For  the  adequate  expression  of  my 

231 


FROM  THE   SOUTH  OF   FRANCE 

gratitude  —  as  for  the  safeguarding  of  my  in- 
terests, as  for  the  observance  of  the  conven- 
ances— again  I  perceived  that  only  one  course 
was  open  to  me.  Being  conscious,  Monsieur, 
that  my  adored  Marius,  that  my  adored  Victor, 
would  approve  my  action — each  of  them,  in 
turn,  had  given  to  it  what  I  may  term  his  visee — 
I  took  that  course.  When  at  last  my  Felix  over- 
came his  delicate  reserve  and  opened  his  heart 
to  me — we  had  been  traveling  for  more  than  an 
hour,  we  had  left  Aries  behind  us,  before  he  ven- 
tured to  speak — I  frankly  and  gladly  bestowed 
myself  upon  that  worthy  young  man.  He  had 
earned  my  gift.  It  was  deserved.  On  the  fol- 
lowing morning.  Monsieur,  our  marriage  was 
solemnized  at  the  Mairie  in  Marseille. 

**And  so  it  is.  Monsieur,  that  you  now  behold 
me  not  in  sorrow,  as  at  our  last  meeting,  but 
on  the  very  crest  of  a  mountainous  wave  of 
joy.  You  observe  how  I  am  dressed — once  more 
in  silks  of  the  richest.  You  saw  me  but  a  mo- 
ment ago  as  a  queen  among  my  devoted  sub- 
jects— receiving  the  tempests  of  their  applause. 
You  know  that  my  adored  Felix  fills  and  satisfies 
my  heart.  Two  years  ago.  Monsieur,  I  told  you 
that  the  great  triumph  of  my  life  had  come  and 
had  gone.  I  was  mistaken.  I  am  in  the  midst 
of  the  great  triumph  of  my  life  at  this  very  hour! 

232 


A   CONSOLATE    GIANTESS 

**But  it  must  not  be,  Monsieur,  that  you 
misunderstand  me;  that  you  imagine  me  to  be, 
in  my  sublime  present,  unfaithful  to  my  exalted 
past.  In  my  soul  still  are  cherished  the  sainted 
memories  of  those  who,  in  turn,  were  all  in  al 
to  me:  my  three  adored  husbands — whom  I 
loved,  serially,  with  a  supreme  affection  and 
served  with  an  exhaustless  care.  I  was  their 
devoted  wife.  Monsieur.  In  saying  that,  I 
say  all!  And  having  held  toward  them  that 
sacred  relation — Monsieur  will  remember  what 
I  have  said  to  him  in  regard  to  the  sanctity  of 
wifely  duty — my  chaste  love  for  their  memories 
will  endure  to  the  ultimate  moment  of  my  earthly 
days.  I  have  endeavored  delicately  to  indicate 
my  continued  devotion  to  all  of  their  memories 
by  continuing  to  call  myself — as  may  be  seen 
by  a  reference  to  the  bills — by  all  of  their  names. 
It  has  its  inconveniences,  that  arrangement — 
but  with  me.  Monsieur,  inconveniences  are  as 
nothing  when  the  sacred  requirements  of  wifely 
duty  are  to  be  fulfilled.  I  have  told  my  Felix 
that  his  name  also — should  fate  have  farther 
changes  in  store  for  me — equally  shall  be  con- 
tinued upon  the  list.  It  is  with  pleasure  that  I 
have  given  him  that  tender  assurance.  Should 
the  occasion  arise,  my  promise  to  him  shall  be 
kept.     My    word    has    passed,    and    my    loyal 

233 


FROM  THE  SOUTH  OF  FRANCE 

resolve  is  taken :  the  name  of  Roustan,  Monsieur, 
shall  not  be  forgotten — even  though  its  im- 
mediate owner,  by  the  force  of  some  regrettable 
accident,  should  go  to  complete  in  the  interior 
of  our  Neron  what  for  me  would  be  a  peerless 
but  desolating  partie  carree. 

' '  As  to  my  feelings  toward  our  Neron,  Monsieur, 
they  are  not  easy  of  expression.  When  I  consider 
all  calmly,  I  find — I  cannot  help  it — that  those 
feelings  are  confused.  At  times  I  remember 
with  gratitude  that  to  him  I  owe  the  gain  of 
three  dear  ones  upon  whom  I  have  lavished  my 
devoted  wifely  love.  At  other  times,  equally, 
I  remember  that  to  him  I  owe  a  precisely  cor- 
responding loss — and  with  that  thought  comes 
the  unavoidable  reflection  that  the  good  beast, 
even  though  his  motives  may  have  been  ex- 
cellent, pushed  the  making  of  his  little  economies 
to  an  extreme.  Yet  again,  looking  at  the  matter 
in  still  another  light,  I  am  conscious  that  but  for 
his  impulsively  energetic  operations  I  never 
should  have  achieved  the  series  of  splendid 
successes  which  have  made  me  a  celebrity  with  a 
world-wide  fame.  With  the  good  and  the  evil 
so  nicely  balanced.  Monsieur,  it  is  difficult,  it  is 
excessively  difficult,  to  come  to  a  just  settlement 
of  the  account. 

''But  in  one  way,  Monsieur,  my  feeling  toward 

234 


A   CONSOLATE   GIANTESS 

our  Neron  is  without  painful  complications:  he 
is,  and  the  thought  endears  him  to  me  beyond 
expression,  the  substantial  link  that  unites  my 
happiness  of  the  present  with  my  happiness  of 
the  past.  When  I  think  of  him  in  that  way  I 
cannot  withhold  from  him  my  affections.  For- 
getting his  misdirected  energies,  forgetting  his 
impulsive  errors,  I  remember  only  that  that 
faithful  animal  is  at  once  the  incarnation  and 
the  sarcophagus  of  all — of  all  save  my  adored 
Felix — that  I  most  have  loved:  of  my  adored 
Marius,  of  my  adored  Victor,  of  my  adored 
Alexandre!'* 

16 


THE   END 


v/ 


jftnvi«r  .?♦, 

\. 

JS5 
f 

From  the 

south  of 

/ 

^ 

953005 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


